


It's a Wonderful Life

by FantasyDeath



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dark Comedy, Dimension Travel, Fantasy, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Reincarnation, Romantic Fluff, Science Fiction, Slow Romance, Transmigration, Universe Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2019-10-11 17:03:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 40
Words: 82,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17450891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasyDeath/pseuds/FantasyDeath
Summary: Ira, system 3298, is a transmigration system that guides his hosts through various worlds and missions. Lately though, something has started to go wrong. And it has something to do with that soul that won't leave him alone.





	1. 1.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is crossposted from my wattpad account, which is the same username.
> 
> It's an original BL novel and all rights belong to me.

Watching his newest Host stumble through her acting as a cannon fodder was physically painful. Her facial expression was constantly stiff, her smile didn't reach her eyes and her accent was utterly fake. For some reason, whenever she used her magic, she yelled out a needlessly long and complicated name while uselessly flailing her hands as if it meant something. Honestly, he was starting to think she had gotten the wrong idea. 

He had already filed for a new charge but, unfortunately, he would need to stick with this one until the mission was finished.

System 3298, more commonly referred to as Ira by his fellow Systems, sighed gracelessly where he was sitting on a patch of dead grass next to a pitched tent. Because this was his Host's first world, the Tutorial Mode had been been activated upon her request. Unfortunately, this made him possess another of the mob characters in order to guide and teach his Host more efficiently how it was done.

Because he was only here to guide his Host along, the character that he was possessing was a mob character, so insignificant that he had absolutely no effect on the plot of the world whatsoever. The character was neither wealthy nor poor, didn't have a tragic backstory to garner sympathy nor did he have a promising career in anything at all. The looks were average, neither especially ugly or pretty or handsome. Average height and weight, average brown hair and eyes and an average fate. There was not a single thing to make the character stand out, he was, literally, just one among the crowd. As such, he was the ideal person to possess in the Tutorial Mode.

Ira watched dispassionately as his Host trained in her magic skills in order to accomplish her mission.

His Host was possessing a woman named Lynne, a cannon fodder in a world of magic where the war against the demons was at its height. The mission was for his Host to keep Lynne from dying, which would lead to the woman's father to commit suicide, which would then lead to the end of this world as he was a frontier researcher on magic and would be the one to the discover how to cut them off from the human realm.

Lynne was a beautiful woman with rich red hair and sparkling blue eyes and, more importantly, powerful magic with an affinity for fire. Unfortunately, she fell in love with the Hero of the story, an apprentice blacksmith that learned he had powerful magic, left his home to learn and after many twists and turns, managed to become a knight for his king. There, the Hero fell in love with the princess. Lynne, on the other hand, first met the Hero as he was traveling to the frontline to fight the demons. For her, it was love at first sight and she thoughtlessly followed him there where she was accepted due to her magic.

This was where the story started going downhill.

The princess became wildly jealous of Lynne because the woman had exotic looks and more impressive magic. She demanded the Hero stay far away from her and the Hero, besotted as he was, listened. This lead Lynne to becoming depressed and suicidal. 

In the end, she sacrificed her life to save the Hero's, which made the Hero realize he had been in love with her all along and what he felt towards the princess was just duty. Brokenhearted, he left the frontline and returned to his home to become a blacksmith. Lynne's father killed himself when he learned of his daughter's fate and no-one could crack the codes on his notes. As such, the demons eventually won the war with no hero to defeat them and the world soon ended.

His Host's mission was to prevent this.

Ira laid down on the dead ground and yawned. It was always such a drag to accompany the first timers on their missions. They were full of stupid questions, unrealistic expectations and annoying optimism. His newest Host was just like all the rest, full of reckless ambition and eager to save the world.

By now, they were about a month into the mission and the first few hurdles had been handled. His Host had met the Hero and had started her journey to the frontline of the war, had met some helpful people that wanted to join the army as well for various dull reasons and had started her training in magic. Things were underway. It was just such a shame that his host possessed virtually no acting skills. It was embarrassing just watching her. Ira was honestly worried for the progression of the mission.

He couldn't wait for it to be over so he could hand her over to another System of lesser rank. Ah, the advantage of being a senior. Sometimes it was all that kept him going. The torment he could inflict on others.

Just as he was about to fall asleep out of boredom, a shout came from the perimeter guard, warning of an approaching attack. Ira didn't even bother to move. It would be an excellent opportunity to test his Host's progress. His eyes stayed closed from his sleepiness, an activity that was essentially all that made it worth it, having an actual physical body. The action of sleeping was wonderful.

He could hear the sound of fighting and the cries of pain from both humans and monsters alike. Nonetheless, he didn't react.

His Host let out a ridiculously loud battle roar and screamed the name of a powerful technique that she had just learned. Ira cringed in shame at her high voice that almost made his new body go deaf. The standards for Hosts had really lowered lately, he should mention that to the Boss the next time he met them. Something clearly needed to be done.

Eventually, the battle died down and the monsters were defeated. Ira continued to wait as he listened to them assess the damage and start the healing process. This was his Host's seventh battle in this world and she was finally starting to get a little used to it. She might even be able to get accepted by the army if she kept it up. Ira just hoped she didn't drag him into it. Sometimes the Hosts did that, pulled their Systems into the story and complained to them to fix their messes and help them when they failed. Ira himself had had that happen to him a lot when he had first started working.

It had really ruined his view and opinion of Hosts.

Satisfied that his Host had learned something from her recent experience, Ira pretended to wake up from his sleep and yawned needlessly loudly. The humans around him gave him evil eyes and glared at him when they saw him "wake up", apparently angry with him for not helping out. But really, they should be used to it by now. He always managed to be conveniently missing or asleep during attacks.

After all, if he was around to interfere, his Host wouldn't learn anything and that was the whole point of the Tutorial Mode. He wasn't there to hold her hand through it, but rather to just supervise more directly and make it easier on her mind when she could actually see him. Some people just weren't mentally strong enough to handle it without some preparation.

There was also no punishment if you failed the mission in the Tutorial Mode, making it perfect for a beginner. Strangely, there were people that refused it and just dived straight in. Most of the time, this lead to horrific failures of the apocalyptic variety.

As in world ending.

Still, there were times when the hosts were smart and adaptable enough to make it and succeed. If they did, they usually had a glorious future awaiting them, where they raised their rank until they could essentially do whatever they wanted. 

Somehow, Ira didn't think his current Host had that awaiting her.

The mission was to keep Lynne alive, but for some reason his Host had insisted on going to the frontline anyway and joining the army. The smart and easy thing to do would be to just stay away from the Hero and the war and things would work themselves out, but his Host was under the delusion that she and the Hero were meant to be and had decided to follow him anyway. The mission could have literally been accomplished staying in the small village Lynne came from and just lazying about, which was generally how the Tutorial Mode worked. You didn't need to actively do anything to succeed. It was a soft start.

But his current Host was somehow under the impression that her mission was not just to keep the woman alive, but to get her her happy ending with her love.

Ira was already anticipating a failure.

His Host made her way from the collection of other people they were traveling with until she reached him and frowned down at him. "You should help out." she said in a judgmental tone.

Ira just yawned at her. "This is your mission. I'm to interfere as little as possible."

"What, is that like, a law or something?"

Ira rose an eyebrow, something that he always enjoyed doing in human form. It conveyed his message perfectly. "Yes."

Her eyes narrowed and she glared at him. "That doesn't mean you can't offer assistance once in a while. You never do anything when we're in a battle. Do you want me to die? Wouldn't you be punished then?"

"No." Ira answered and continued flatly with, "Your failure or success is your own. It is only if your soul were to be lost, shredded or destroyed that I would be punished. Otherwise you're the only one with something to lose."

She appeared stunned for a moment before she swallowed deeply and said, harshly, "Well, I don't need your help anyway. You can rot in a hole for all I care!"

Once she was gone, Ira smiled gently in success and closed his eyes again. It was probably mean of him, to pick on his Hosts, but really, as a System there wasn't really a lot of other things to do when on a mission. He couldn't contact other Systems while working so all he could really do was mock his Hosts and watch them like they were performing a live show. It was endlessly amusing. He'd seen some weird and embarrassing things during the years.

Breathing deeply, he let his mind wander in an attempt to get more sleep. Soon, they would resume traveling and making their way to the frontline of the war against the demons. Personally, Ira thought it was a horrible idea, going straight to where Lynne was originally set to die, but he wasn't paid to flaunt his opinions. And there was a kind of morbid joy to be found in his Host doing something so wildly reckless.

He probably shouldn't draw so much entertainment from his Hosts' failures, but to be fair, he had been a System for a very long time. He was allowed his eccentricities.

From the other side of the temporary camp, he heard his Host's voice yelling out instructions and encouragements as though she was the protagonist of the story. Certainly, some Hosts managed to revert their characters roles and change the plot and story of the world, but that was usually because that was actually the mission. And you didn't get those missions until you ranked up.

His Host was just getting ahead of herself.

Well, if nothing else, it was bound to be amusing, this new mission of his.

Ira just hoped his Host didn't screw things up too bad. It would be embarrassing in front of the others.

 


	2. 1.2

They got their things ready and set out at midday again. Ira had found that his Host was remarkably inefficient in her traveling. They camped as soon as night set and didn't leave until the sun was high in the sky the next day. Their pace was slow and they kept making detours past difficult terrain. The journey would take, from his calculations, about three and a half weeks longer then it should because of this.

Not that he was going to say anything.

Among the five of them, there were only two horses that they loaded all their luggage on and walked beside. 

Ira spent the journey to the frontline cloud-watching. It was a relaxing hobby and meant that he could tune out the annoyance that was listening to his Host being tutored in how to use her magic.

During the journey, they were attacked many times, by many different things. Monsters, bandits, even low-level demons almost killed them uncountable times. Ira never bothered to warn anyone about any incoming hostiles, mostly because he wasn't keeping an eye on it. He was possessing a body that had no impact on the story of this world at all, if it died, he would just switch to another.

With every battle that they waged, his Host improved her control of her magic and her battle-instincts, which had at first been completely absent, had improved by leaps and bounds. Of course, his Host took her success to mean that she was powerful and it only made her more stubborn. Ira could inform her of the fact that everyone she fought against was pathetically weak, and it was sort of pathetic to see her be so smug about beating them, but that would just spoil his fun. It wasn't like the knowledge was going to change anything, anyway. She'd just accuse him of lying.

For some reason, a lot of his Hosts accused him of lying. He must just have one of those faces.

As they got closer and closer to the army recruitment camps, Ira could feel a tension rising from the group of humans around him. He had no idea what they were so nervous about (but then again, he didn't get a lot of human emotions) so he just ignored them and walked in the lead.

The camp was up ahead, passed a high hill that they just _had to_ climb. Ira saw no reason they couldn't go around it, but apparently that would just waste time. As if they hadn't wasted it already.

On the other hand, it also gave him more images to laugh about. His Host huffing and puffing up a small mountain as she complained about everything from the heat to the sun's rays to the steep climb was hilarious.

Top quality comedy material right there.

When they finally reached the top of the hill, Ira almost couldn't contain his laugh at seeing the only way down. It was even steeper than the side they had just climbed up, with only a few trees and rocks in the way down. It was so steep that a few steps down, his Host slid, fell and tumbled the rest of the way down like a demented beachball.

She bounced, careened around and just generally made a sorry sight of herself. Her traveling companions soon joined her. Ira chose to preserve his dignity as much as possible (though he hardly knew what such a thing was, dignity after all, was a human concept) and sat himself down from the start. He then just slid down, as if he was sitting on a waterslide.

He reached the ground after everyone else had rolled all the way down, amongst curses and loud yells of pains. It seemed some injuries had come about from the unfortunate tumble.

Such a shame.

Ira put his head on his hand where he was sitting on the hard ground, just a few meters away. It was only his natural inability to show emotions that kept him from laughing and pointing right in their faces. He looked forward to sharing what he had recorded with his fellow Systems when the mission was over with.

It took some time, but eventually, she managed to come back to her senses. Ira watched as she tore herself away from the concerned soldiers that surrounded her and her tag-alongs with an angry face. At one point, she even kicked a man in the crotch. If Ira wasn't mistaken, she was embarrassed to be caught in a humiliating moment and took it out on those around her. This, as well, he had seen many of his Hosts do.

Some people just didn't know how to quit whilst ahead.

Someone clearing their throat and coughing unnecessarily loudly close by diverted his attention and Ira looked to his side to discover that he was no longer alone. An older gentleman stood there, grey in his hair and a belly that was no longer the ideal size. The gentleman smiled when he saw he had Ira's attention and asked, "Were you hurt as well?"

Ira just shook his head and smiled ruefully. "No, I'm quite alright. But my companions..."

He let the sentence go as he had no idea what else to say. Was he to say he was worried? Concerned? Felt bad that only he was undamaged?

Human sensibilities were so damn confusing.

But the gentleman seemed to realize what he should mean and frowned at him with sympathy clouding his judgement. The man opened his mouth to speak. "Our healers are very well educated, I'm sure that by the time they're done, they'll be good as new. You have nothing to be worried about. If you would like, you can make yourself at home in the canteen and get yourself something to eat while you wait?"

"Thank you very much for your kind words, I'll take you up on your offer." Ira smiled at the man and stood to his feet. He was wondering what that odd sensation in his stomach was. So it was hunger, eh?

Somehow, he always seemed to forget what it meant every time he left the various human bodies behind. Like all Systems, he got his sustenance from the energy of the various universes themselves. Things like actually sitting down at a table or on the ground, cooking something and then using his mouth to chew it wasn't really in his normal schedule.

Mortals were so freaking complicated.

The man pointed in the direction of the aforementioned canteen and Ira made his way there gratefully. He hoped nothing bad would happen to the man that had been so needlessly kind to him. But then he also didn't really care.

On the other hand, it was in his nature to always return all favors done to him, intentionally or not.

Well, things would turn out as they wanted.

In the canteen — a large tent above a bunch of tables and a couple of chairs — there were a lot of humans. They sat or stood in groups, having conversations at the same time as they dined. From the back of the tent came a smell, that while not exactly enticing, wasn't revolting either, and Ira walked between the many people in order to reach it. Once there, he crabbed a tray and started loading it with his choices. It was kind of like a school canteen, in a very superficial way.

But the food was about the same level.

Ira sat himself down on the ground as there were no free chairs and he didn't really feel like standing and eating at the same time. He gulped down the food and drank with relief as his stomach finally stopped making that absolutely dreadful noise.

When he was finally satisfied (he had went back in line twice to get more), Ira left the canteen in order to find his Host. While he didn't really care about what happened to her and he would know the instant she died, he figured it was only polite to check in on her. He at least had to make sure she didn't have any permanent injuries. If that was the case, while not failed, he would have to use force to get her off the battlefield and save the mission.

Which would involve revealing that he wasn't quite as useless as he'd made himself out to be, and that would be _such a drag_.

After asking a few different soldiers that were milling about where the infirmary was, he made his way there. The infirmary was filled with the scent of death, decay and just general misery. Ira found that he quite liked it.

Once there, it was easy to find his companions. They were all laying or sitting on small cots that stood side by side and appeared pretty miserable. Sadly, they were all alive and well. Maybe if a few of them had died, his Host would realize the complete foolishness of what she intended to do and turn around. A lot of people changed their minds when they were face to face with death and in order to spare the Host's fragile mentality, the memory of their deaths were always erased.

Ira walked past a few soldiers, most of them covered in blood-colered bandages, to get to his reluctant traveling companions. He smiled when he reached them and asked, "All better now?"

For his question, he got a lot of resentful glares. "No thanks to you." snapped one of his Host's followers. According to a foot-note in the original story, he was set to die in his first battle. Not a big loss, all things considered.

"I know and I apologize for my lack of vigilance. I shall strive to do better from here-on." Ira watched as shock spread on their faces from his admittance of his wrong-doing. Smugness then followed.

His Host glared at him with flaming blue eyes. "You could at the very least _try_ not to be such a dead-weight. Or his that above your abilities?"

So now it was his intelligence that was in question. 

Ira smiled at her, his closed eyes masking the daggers that he was throwing her. "The next time such a thing occurs, I shall tie you up and push you down myself. This way, there will be lesser injuries due to your flailing about."

His Host blushed all the way to the root of her hair and shrieked, "That's not better at all!"

Ira just tilted his head and widened his eyes. "It's not?"

"Geh!" his Host leaned back away from him and growled, " _Your job_ is to help me. Isn't that why you're here?"

"Not at all." Ira stated. "It's to make sure that you don't destroy your own soul."

With that his Host blushed even darker and looked away from the confused looks of her followers. Ira did in fact have the ability to help his Hosts, but why would he do that when he didn't even like them? Much less when they were so embarrassing he could hardly stand to be around them? He knew that newly born Systems tended to help anyone with anything, no matter how difficult, but he had long since left behind that stage.

Ah, the questionable decisions of youth.

So freaking embarrassing in hindsight.

On the other hand, it was always a blast to make fun of the new Systems and remind them of their naivety constantly until they got enough of it and tried to kill him in futility.

He was so much more powerful than them that any attempt just felt like being tapped with a feather.

It was actually kind of pleasant.

After saying goodbye to his Host, he drifted off to find a comfortable place to sleep. It didn't matter if he slept on a bed or on the ground, his innate abilities would heal any kinks that were caused by strange sleeping postures.

Off to the side of the camp there was a nice piece of grass, high enough that it would be good enough. Ira sat down and then laid down on it. Above him there was a picture of stars as night had long since fallen. It was a beautiful sight. The two moons of this world created a sight that made one think it was a painting.

The humans should really care more about it.

 


	3. 1.3

The next day, they signed up for the army to fight against the demons.

Ira signed up as well, just to have an excuse to be close by his Host, not that he had any intention of doing any more work than absolutely necessary to keep up the illusion that he was a human soldier. His Host seemed to have recovered by the time they were carted off to another camp where they would be placed in different squads. Due to the dire situation in the war, there was no time to teach anyone how to fight, they simply accepted anybody that could, no matter where they came from.

He, his Host and his Host's followers traveled on the same cart to the location. At least he no longer had to walk.

They reached the camp by nightfall.

The camp contained a few thousands humans, all of them either scared, stupid or arrogant. Ira could see the looks on their faces that belayed their true emotions and he was not impressed. It seemed that most of them were brave fellows that believed they were powerful enough to take on the world.

They were the ones that would die first.

Not that he cared.

Ira followed after his Host as she departed from the cart and found her way to the barracks. In his mind, he could see the entire layout of the camp, but revealing that would just spoil his fun at watching his Host traveling in circles, getting more frustrated by the second. And doubtlessly, she'd demand that he use the map to help her if she was to find out about it.

His first few Hosts had always expected him to relay everything to them about the area, all the dangers and safe-zones and where everything was. It got tiring after a while. After all, there was no rule that said he needed to help them at all.

Systems existed outside of time and space, if a mission failed, it was only a matter of getting a new Host and going back to try again until it succeeded.

If multiple failures occurred, another System would simply take over without any consequences.

For the Systems, that was, the Hosts were utterly screwed.

Occasionally, there were multiple Hosts in the same world, belonging to different Systems. At such times, depending on the various missions given, they could either work against or with each other. More often then not though, they tended to blow everything out of proportion and fight each other to the death. Humans were such needlessly dramatic creatures.

Everything was always do or die with them.

When they got the barracks, they all sat down on different beds next to each other. Ira managed to secure himself a bed up top, which meant that he could shake it and wake up the person below him every time he pretended he needed to go the bathroom in the middle of the night. And to his luck, the unlucky person that grabbed the bed below him was his Host, the annoyance that she was.

Ira looked forwards to ruining her sleep.

They went to bed immediately.

On account of the fact that he actually was tired, as much as he had napped in the cart, and to instill a false sense of security in his Host, Ira slept the entire night away without making one false trip to the bathroom. Which was actually just a small shack in the middle of nature, but Ira saw nothing wrong with it. He found it to be charming.

The next day, his Host complained loudly about the uncomfortable sleep, as if she wasn't already used to it. Ira ignored her with his usual style, not even budging when she pouted at him, as if it was even attractive to him. He was a System, he had no concept of attraction. Certainly not the human sense of beauty.

After a very bland breakfast, during which his Host made several amusing faces, they made their way to the training grounds where his Host immediately picked up a shiny sword and started swinging it around, grinning with victory. His Host's followers followed along and picked up weapons as well, starting their own training. Ira glanced disinterestelly over the collection of tools of murder and chose a rusted silver dagger. It was of poor quality, unbalanced and on the edge of falling apart, but it had a certain character that he enjoyed.

Ira walked over to a doll tied to a tree and made up of straw, and stabbed it where the lung would be on a human being. He could go for the heart, of course, but he wasn't human and possessed no instinct to deliver a swift and painless death. And watching the hope die in a human's eyes was always fun.

A soldier walked over and looked at them sternly until they stopped what they were doing. The soldier cleared her throat and said, "Squad 6748? I am your Commanding Officer. We'll be going into battle in precisely four hours. Prepare yourselves. Meet up by the carts at the time for further briefing. If you're late, we're leaving you behind and you'll be sent to a... less than pleasant location. Clear?"

They barked out a "yes, sir!" in response.

When she was sure the soldiers were gone, his Host turned to him and demanded, "So? How am I doing on this mission? Good, right? The progress bar must be pretty far by now. Soon, I'll meet the protagonist again and he'll realize he loves me."

There was no such thing as a progress bar.

Ira smiled, a hollow and disconserning thing, and said, "You are at 4.3% right now. Continue working hard and this mission will be a success."

_Yeah, right._

Ira had already filed for a new Host, on the basis of undue confidence and reckless arrogance. It was telling, that these were both accepted reasons. Whatever the result of this mission, he wouldn't be there for the fallout.

Lucky.

He almost pitied the poor sap that would be taking over the care of his Host.

The four hours went by fast and soon they were collected at the carts.

Ira didn't bother packing actual supplies, as he had none, but instead spent the time letting his imagination get away from him. He imagined his Host on the frontline of the war, hopelessly outmatched and torn into tiny pieces by pissed off demons. It was balm to his immortal soul.

One could always hope.

When everyone was finally there, there was about two dozen people waiting, of which half were followers of his Host. She certainly hadn't wasted any time to make her (thought to be secret) dream of having a harem come true. It was plainly visible that she thought less of her female followers, even when they met her standards of attraction. Ira did not understand the human need to seperate the genders so carefully. Of course, he was in no way attracted to human females as well, but that was because they just made no sense.

It had nothing to do with the fact that they were women.

On the other hand, if they were stupid, it didn't matter how attractive they were, he was out.

Their Commander arrived and took stock of everyone present. She gave them all a frosty glare that was just made more severe by her gray hair. She clearly had no patience for idiocy.

A kindred soul, she was.

She coughed loudly to get everyone's attention and explained, "Listen up! We are reinforcements for a battle that has already been waging for two days. Once we arrive, you will be fighting immediately. Some of you will sustain heavy and permanent injuries, some of you will be captured and tortured by the enemy and some of you will die. The ones that die are the lucky ones. For the less fortunate that survive," here, she paused and smiled viciously. "welcome to hell!"

"You're never going to leave!"

The entire group felt a cold shiver run over them. Ira had to fight off a savage smile at the fear he could sense all around him. Hopefully, his Host would never forget the lesson she was about to be given.

There is nothing more inheritanely cruel than war.

They climbed up on the carts. Ira settled himself next to his Host, having the perfect view of her shaking hands. She had no idea what she had gotten herself into. The monsters they had been fighting so far didn't even compare.

His Host came from a relatively peaceful world, and she had died a very unremarkable death. She'd crashed her car, a fairly common way to go, and died on impact. She had never even had time to feel much pain. How she reacted to the sight about to greet her would clearly show how strong she was mentally.

It was not going to be pretty.

The first thing they saw was the smoke.

It rose above them and the road they were riding like the ominous sign it was.

The second was the sound of battle.

There were screams of agony and rage, the feeling of burning _hatred_ poisoning the very air itself. It was still midday, but the smoke covered up the sky and made it seem like night. Fire raged around them, the crackling flames heavy with heat and danger. The closer they came to the battle, the worse it got.

Eventually, they were close enough to hear the yelling.

Sharp and clear orders were called out, the name of spells and wards and incantations falling from the lips of exhausted mages.

Desperation burned in the air like fuel.

The carts stopped.

Their Commander turned to them from where she was sitting at the very front. "This is how it's going to go. You'll go down there and kill all the demons you can find. If you know Healing or Warding, those Generals are probably still alive, so find them and report for duty. They'll tell you what to do. If they're not... make sure to take as many of those demons down with you as you can! This is a highly stratetigic location that we can not, under any circumstances, allow the demons to conquer. Understood?!"

"Yes, sir!"

They marched into battle.

Within the first few minutes of rushing screaming onto the field the battle was taking place, Ira lost sight of his Host. His map let him know exactly where she was, as well as all allies and hostiles. They were even helpfully color-coded.

Ira grabbed his rusted and unbalanced dagger and let loose his murderous tendencies onto unsuspecting demons.

He didn't spare so much as a thought to worry about his Host.

The ground was littered with human bodies, all of them having died in truly gruesome ways. In this world, when a demon died, it shattered into pure darkness, a force that could then (if powerful enough) infect another life-form and turn them into a demon themselves. There was no way to protect oneself from it. But in this situation, trapped on a battlefield full of nothing but death, these clouds of darkness had nothing to infect. Instead, they were absorbed into already existing demons, making them even stronger and harder to kill.

So the only thing on the ground were the bodies of dead humans. Ira nearly tripped on stray limbs multiple times while he tried half-heartedly not to die.

This was neither his body nor his life, after all.

His Host let loose a powerful rare spell on the other side of the battlefied, a flash of light that took out all surrounding demons following it, and Ira smiled mirthfully. Lynne was powerful enough to be a Knight Mage, it was a shame that that was the road that led to her death. And the destruction of this world.

Otherwise, Ira might have very well left her alone.

A bright beacon appeared on his radar and Ira smiled with relief. The story was finally properly starting. After all this time.

The Hero had arrived.

 


	4. 1.4

The Hero arrived with victory on his heels.

Ira watched as the bright dot on his map flashed its way across the battlefield until it reached his Host. This wasn't (thankfully) the scene where Lynne died, but rather just a stepping stone to make them notice each other as capable warriors. Unless his Host did something stupid, things should follow the script well enough for things to evolve as written.

Of course, this was also the version where Lynne died. Which was what his Host was supposed to prevent.

 _Not_ cause.

Unfortunately, as good at multi-tasking as he was, he _was_ currently engaged in a battle to the death and thus didn't have a lot of attention to spare her. She would just have to manage on her own for a little while.

Not that Ira had ever really helped her in the first place.

The heady sensation of powerful magic filled the area and distracted him further. He knew his Host well enough to know that it didn't come from her, which left the Hero as the only possible culprit. Slashing the throat of a particularly bothersome demon, Ira focused back on the battle in front of him. His Host was annoying yes, but even she couldn't screw things up in the middle of such a chaotic mess. Ira didn't need to be hyperaware of her every move.

Instead, he concentrated on his own battles, his own killings, and watched as form after form shattered into billions of pieces, that were then quickly absorbed into other demons. With every demon killed, the remaining ones only got more powerful.

Ira fought his way across the battlefield, his dagger in hand and blood on his clothes. He didn't care if he literally stepped on corpses in order to achieve his goal, or if he waited for other soldiers (that almost always died) to tire a demon out first, before he stepped in and killed it. This was a mission and though he expected it to fail miserably, he had a good enough work-ethic that he would still do his very best. That was how he had come to be one of the highest ranking Systems in all the universes.

Through hard work and dedication.

Plain and simple.

Fighting his way through a truly nasty hoard of demons, he noted that he was getting closer to his Host's location. On the map, the Hero was still shining brilliantly and Ira could see how the dots marking hostiles disappeared in wave after wave around him.

Then Ira caught sight of him.

The Hero made a striking picture.

He had long golden hair tied up in a high ponytail, sparkling blue eyes like the sea and not an imperfection on his face to be seen. The golden light that surrounded him marked him as this world's protagonist, and with that shining sword in his hands, he certainly looked it. There was no doubt in Ira's mind that that was the Hero of the story.

Not far from the Hero was Ira's Host, a white light shining from her soul announcing that she was a transmigrated soul. Reincarnated souls were silver.

Ira saw her fighting desperately, shooting off powerful spells one after the other with no regard for her own reserves. If she kept it up, she'd tire herself out within minutes and then she'd be dead meat.

And this world would end.

_Game Over._

Killing the demon that tried to gut him with a pair of claws, Ira only turned his back to her for a few seconds. But during those precious few moments, the demons managed to overwhelm her and broke through her battered barrier.

This mission was officially a bust.

But then something unexpected (lie) happened.

The Hero threw himself in front of the woman he knew as Lynne and took the first blows in her place. Then his sword tore through them like they were made of paper. They shattered like so many had done before them and right in front of Ira's eyes, the billions of invisble (to normal human eyes) pieces of pure Darkness flowed right into the Hero.

Well, his Host was screwed.

There was no way the Boss would forgive that kind of stupid mistake.

Not only had she screwed up the mission, she had made it worse than it originally was. Before they interfered, it would take the demons seventeen long years to conquer the entirety of the planet, but with the protagonist leading them... it was going to go much _much_ faster.

And there was no doubt that the Hero would lead them. As the world's protagonist, he had the Halo of a powerful and meaningful Fate surrounding him. Within him lied unimagable powers, only limited by the strength of his foes. As a demon, he would use whatever means or powers neseccary to reach his goal.

The part of him that was good, his consience and capability to feel guilt, would be complterly eradicated by the darkness of the infecting demons. The turn wasn't instant, but once started, it couldn't be stopped.

The Hero just became the most powerful Villain, and it was his Host's fault.

Cursing his bad luck, Ira just barely managed to avoid a deadly attack and kill the offending demon. He ran forwards the last few meters that seperated him and the Hero, sliding to his knees opposite his Host. His Host was crying, her face blotched unattractively and her eyes red, snot starting to run from her nose. When she saw him sit down, she just wailed louder.

"I didn't think he would take all those hits for me! He saved my life!" she bemoaned loudly, her voice rough from all the crying she had already done. Yet, she appeared to just cry harder once she spoke.

Ira nodded distractedly and pat her lightly on her shoulder in a parody of a comforting gesture. He stared down at the still form of the protagonist lying in the bloodsoaked mud. He wasn't entirely sure where to go from here. He couldn't just kill the protagonist, with all the trouble this world was already in, it might just cause it to explode.

And technically the mission was still ongoing, he couldn't pull the plug in the middle of it. Well, he could, but it would dock his pay and he needed that money to buy manga.

This was certainly a tough situation his Host had gotten him into.

Manga or no manga?

The choice was obvious.

Clearing his throat, Ira looked back at his Host, who just looked more unsightly. "He is turning into a demon. I'm sorry, but there is nothing we can do."

His Host shook her head wildly and demanded, "Isn't there _something_ you can do?! A pill you can give him?! Medicine?!"

"I'm sorry."

His Host threw herself dramatically over the body of the Hero, as if he was already dead, and burst out into a fresh wave of tears. Once Ira thought that an appropiate time had passed, he figured it was time to give her some false hope.

He attempted to look as innocent and helpful as possible.

"There is... _one_ thing that we could try."

She looked up sharply, with her eyes already glaring at him. _"What is it?"_

"True love."

She furrowed her eyes in confusion and asked, "Like in the fairytales?"

Ira smirked. "Exactly. He needs to love someone unconditionally and be loved unconditionally in return. If he does, the demonic process will reverse."

"He'll be human again."

His Host narrowed her eyes, showing off the part of her that was calculating. It was a shame it only ever appeared when she had love issues. "So," she started. "if he falls in love with me, he'll be cured?"

"Yes." Ira said and nodded. He continued, "But you also need to genuinly love him in return, or it's a lost cause."

"I love him. You know I do, System."

He knew that? "Well, that's all well and good, but you'll need to make him fall in love with you too. It won't be as easy as you imagine it to be."

She nodded determinely. Ira continued speaking. "We'll need to hide him somewhere."

"Why?" She stared suspiciously at Ira.

"Beacuse he's turning into a demon. If we leave him, he'll be killed by humans as a preemptive measure." Ira stated flatly.

With that, the coversation ended. His Host nodded and togethee they dragged a few corpses to lay on top of the protagonist. It was neither sanitary or pleasant, but it was the most effective way. Who knew how long this battle would go on? Having the Hero away from the fight and protected by human shields was the most effective way to keep him from being discovered. The battlefield was mostly flat. There were no unoccupied rocks to hide behind.

Once the Hero was covered entirely by his dead comrades, Ira and his Host returned to the battle at hand. His Host was visibly bad off and just half an hour later, she was injured to such an extent that she had no choice but to find her way to an healer.

Ira continued fighting.

Time flew by, the way it tended to, with no consideration for anybody's feelings.

After five more days, the battle finally ended with a hard-fought victory in the humans hands. Over half of the army that had fought in the battle had ended up dead with an addiontal number that were captured. Humanity had no resources to rescue them, which was why all humans fighting had the standing order of killing themselves as fast as possible if captured. They all knew there was no chance of anybody saving them.

Ira settled down next to a campfire. At his side was his Host and the few of her followers that survived. The glow his Host had sported was gone, and in its place was a tired woman with sunken eyes and limp hair. A portion of it was now uneven and if his sense of smell was correct, it had been burned off. Most likely, she had lost control of her own magic.

A passing soldier (healer, by the look of the uniform) handed him a glass of water and a bowl of soup. Considering that he had barely eaten anything in the last few days -- barring apples they had passed around from time to time -- Ira accepted it gratefully. He _was_ starting to feel weaker, likely a combination of hunger and bloodloss. He had gotren nicked a few times during the battle and the bloodloss built up. He might be a System, but the body he was possessing healed at the regular slow human rate.

Drinking the soup and water with barely a pause, Ira sighed and asked his Host, "What are you so upset about?"

His Host glanced at him and hugged her own knees tighter. "I went back to look for Alaric and he wasn't there."

"That's good, right? That means he got away and is still alive." Ira inquired.

His Host burrowed further into her own embrace and her voice got lower. "Well, yes. But it means that he's actually a demon now, right? I mean... the turning would be finished by now. He's not the man I fell in love with anymore."

"What does that matter? You still love him." Ira stated and cast a questioning look at his Host. She had spent weeks advocating the love she felt for the Hero and how they were meant to be, and now she felt doubt because he had been turned into a demon? He had done it to save her. If anything, that should just foster more feelings.

"Of course, I do, it's just... I don't know, it's different now." his Host refused to look at him and asked, "Can he even _feel_ love anymore?"

Ira turned his gaze to the fire. "Of course he can. Love isn't an emotion exclusive to humans, you don't hold a monopoly on it. Any sentient being have the capability to love. Some species just express it differently. That doesn't mean the emotion isn't there or that's it's any less powerful. It doesn't make it any less important or precious."

His Host looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "You know, sometimes you can be kind of smart, System."

"I know." Ira answered. Of course, just because he fell in love, the now demonic Hero wouldn't be cured. This world had already ended. It was just that nobody had realized it yet.


	5. 1.5

They stayed at the battlefield for three more weeks, to clear up and burn all the bodies. With that many corpses in a single location, chances were that a pandemic would break out. They couldn't take that chance, with as much of a mess humanity already was in.

If they let it, sickness could end them before the demons.

Ira sighed and turned his sight to his Host. After the long battles, during which she been pulled out in the middle of due to acute exhaustion (she wasted more energy performing her many powerful spells than she could afford) his Host had recovered her spirits and set her sight on a new goal. To save the Hero.

Of course, the people around her knew it was impossible, that it couldn't be done no matter if he fell in love or not, but she wouldn't hear of it. She was fast determined to succeed, even if the world ended with her trying. Now, more than ever, it was crucial that Lynne remained alive, but his Host insisted on throwing her life away.

Ira really couldn't understand humans.

When the battlefield was finally cleared of all of the bodies, they left to travel back to the camp they came from. Over half of his Host's followers were dead, their corpses just more fuel to fan the flames, and his Host was left with either the powerful or the cowards. Their Commanding Officer had survived the battle as well, and with two new scars to prove it. The only person who took part in the battle without receiving a single scar was his Host, due to the fact that she had a lot of overpowered attacks that meant no enemy could reach her.

Even Ira had ended up with a brand new scar, as well as a collection of scrapes and bruises.

They returned to the camp they had left what felt like an eternity ago, with aroumd three hundred battle-hardened soldiers. All of them but his Host were wrapped in bloodstained gauze, as even the healers (the ones that had survived) were too exhausted to do any major repairs, even weeks after the end of the battle.

Another regiment of the human army would take over the process of keeping control of the valleu they just won. From what Ira knew it, it seemed like their regimemt was meant to go from battle to battle to act as reinforcements. Fresh, energetic soldiers.

Ready to die.

They were given eleven days before they were sent off on their next mission, their Commander an impressive sight where she stood tall on a small raised platform, like she hadn't nearly lost her leg.

Ira stood on the ground in front of her, one among thousands. Their regiment had been sent back in groups at a time, to different camps, but now they were all collected at the same place.

The Commander used magic to project her voice to all of her soldiers. "I know we're all exhausted after the last battle and that you haven't had nearly enough time to recover mentally. I know all you want to do is go home to your family.

But we can't do that yet.

Our next mission is to reinforce the army up in the north. It is going to take at least, if not more than, two months to get there. We will be crossing some dangerous territories. On the way, we'll be stopping by the Capital to restock our supplies. Be warned that we will not be entering the city, nor will we stay for longer than a day. You know what happens if you get left behind.

We are on a tight time schedule. The fight in the north has taken a bad turn, and they desperately need more supplies. We are to pick up as much as we can carry or drag, and we will tighten our rations to save as much as possible. We will then leave that battle as soon as possible, as soon as the fighting begins to slow down. We do not want to waste precious supplies. We will leave as soon as the sun rises tomorrow. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

Ira wondered off together with another group of soldiers after the Commander stepped down and left to plan their journey out. He followed along behind them as they found their way to the improvised cafeteria.

His Host was off holding court with her followers and convincing them to support her as she saved her lover. Nevermind that the Hero didn't even know her name or how incredibly dangerous it was going to be. Ira had thought that she had learned something from that battle, but all she seemed to care about was her love. Two days after the end of the battle, and she was already off to convert more followers with her incredible powers.

Ira grabbed a tray full of food and settled own on a hastily built wooden table to eat. It was leaning to the side and his wood cup aömost slid off the table before it got caught on an uneven section. This was the table he always ate at.

A ruckus sounded from the other side of the cafeteria as a fight broke out. Ira didn't pay it any mind.

After eating his dinner, Ira continued his wandering habits. He had walked the entirety of the camp, peeked into all tents and used all available toilets. There was nothing he didn't know about it.

Like the fact that the night security of the west perimeter spent more time asleep than awake. Or the fact that people had sex in the toilet shacks. Or the fact that the cooks were seriously considering poisoning all of the food for their horrible treatment. Or the fact that the Commander's right hand man was in love with her. So in love, that his Host's charm didn't work on him at all.

The last thing, he knew because his Host had complained about it to him.

Like there was anything he could do about it.

As a System, he had a lot of power, and due to his rank, he had even more of it. But one thing he _couldn't_ do was affect or alter the emotions of any sentient being.

That would just be _wrong_.

His wandering brought him to the tent his Host had been given after they got back froom the battle. Through the open flap, he could see her sitting and talking with the woman she shared the tent with, as well as three men he had never seen before. They made a funny picture, squeezed in as they were.

He walked closer to listen in on their conversation.

"...blue eyes, a little brighter than mine."

That small snippet was enough for him to know what they were being so sneaky about. They were talking about the Hero, the protagonist of the story and the man that had become a demon. If Ira wasn't wrong, then he was already making headway into becoming the new Demonic Leader. This was the man his Host was convinced she loved, and the man that she would probably die trying (and failing) to save.

Ira wondered if he had made the wrong vhoice to lie to her, with the way this story was rapidly going downhill. But Ira wasn't a creature of regrets, he made his choices and stuck with them.

Even when they downright sucked.

He walked off to his own tent.

He woke up the next morning with a smile. He had had the most pleasant sleep, during which he had dreamed of his very first Host getting bitten by a snake in a place the sun doesn't shine, and then dying from the poison, because nobody would suck it out.

It would be a most fitting way to go, that bastard deserved it.

Though the sun had not yet passed the horizon completely, Ira had an internal clock that could easily be used as an alarm. It was how he always knew exactly what time it was, right down to the millisecond.

It was a lot more complicated than it sounded.

He edged his way out of the tent, past the man he had spent the last (almost) two weeks sleeping next to. The man was a fellow mob character, so there wasn't a lot of data on him. If Ira ever died and the man was still alive, he planned on possessing him next. It was a foolproof plan.

His first stop was the cafeteria, that luckily hadn't been poisoned yet. Ira was eagery awaiting it.

After a healthy and tasty (the best food went to the earliest risers) breakfast, Ira returned to his tent to pack up his few posessions and wake up his roommate. He did this by releasing a concentrated dose of Killing Intent on the man. This was the method he always used to wake him. Which might explain why the man always seemed so scared of Ira. His ability of avoidance was world class, Ira nearly never saw him outside of the tent.

The man was wild-eyed when he woke, clearly fresh from the throes of a nightmare. Ira left him alone to gather the last of his few things, which essentially amounted to a few shirts and pants and his dagger, plus an additional knife he had picked up right off of the ground.

Ira was one of the first to arrive at the gathering area.

He picked a spot on the ground and settled down to wait. It wasn't long until other people started to arrive as well, settling down on the ground either alone or in groups.

Ira spotted his Host pretty fast, surrounded as she was by her followers.

He was pretty sure that _nobody_ had missed her.

Eventually, everybody was finally there.

Ira rose up with the rest of the bunch and watched as all the carts that they had were quickly filled up with people, among them his Host. Ira chose not to bother fighting about them and instead just started walking between two carts, right in the middle of the quickly marching army.

They started walking.

Through the haze of the smoke that was still billowing occacionally from the battlefield they had left behind, Ira could make out thousands of people, both ahead of him and behind him. They marched as one unit, with the occional horse carrying some of the higher ranking officers. Evenly spaced out were the carts, that would be filled to the breaking edge with supplies once they reached the capital.

On one of these carts, his Host was hitching a ride tpgether with most of her followers. Her presence was a bright dot on his mental map, he noticed even when she was just switching seats. He could even zoom in on her if he had to.

Not that he wanted to.

Ira hitched the small cloth bag higher over his shoulder where he walked next to a bunch of strangers. He was surrounded by soldiers who had seen battle and actually _changed_ , even if not in good ways, because of it. Granted they didn't smell very well, but by temporarily shutting down his sense of smell, he didn't even catch a hint of it. And walking amongst them for months, during which water would be scarce, it was a very good thing.

Some things made possessing a human worth it. The way they smelled when they hadn't bathed in a while wasn't one of them.

He zoomed out on his map and searched for the Hero. Far away, deep in a mountain, he found the bright beacon. Despite the fact that he had been turned into a demon, he was still the protagonist of this world. Ira knew very well what that meant.

In his minds eye, he could see his Host as she convinced people of her plan, to knowingly search out what could very well be the most powerful demom this world had ever known. The darkness that had flowed into the Hero had belonged to hundreds, if not thousands, of demons, that had all been more powerful than the last.

There was no way this was going to end well.


	6. 1.6

The north was cold.

The ground was covered entirely by a thick layer of ice and snow, sparkling every time the midday sunlight hit it. Even the river and small lakes they passed were frozen solid for several centemeters and in order to fish and get water, the various soldiers had to let looze on the ice with a variety of weapons, from spears to swords to axes. All ice that they managed to dislodge was then melted down to water, which was used to cook food and drink. Their army had thousands, they couldn't afford to waste such precious resources.

They had stopped at the capital about a week into the journey, where all the carts had been filled to the brim with supplies, food, medicine and clothes among them. Not to mention the weapons. While magic was useful, it eventually ran out. In that situation, having a blade to rely on meant you could at least have a _chance_ to reach the healers.

Ira hadn't entered the capital because, quite frankly, he held no interest in it. To him, it was just a city like any other. Once you had seen one, you had seen them all.

His Host on the other hand, had almost been left behind because she spent so long in the capital. She had used up all of the money she had buying pretty accessories and the like, all useless objects for a war. She was now at the very back of the army, together with everyone else who had had to run to catch up. This included essentially all of her followers, except those who hadn't entered the city because they had been on supply gathering duty.

Ira was still somewhere in the middle of the army when they finally reached the military camp up in the north, amongst the snow and cold.

The camp was situated on snow-covered sloped mountain, where there were hundreds of tents, and even some smaller cabins, spread out over quite a distance and height. The snow covered the tents and cabins as well, giving some natural camouflage to the otherwise eye-catching sight.

Ira followed along behind the other soldiers to one of the soldiers that had already been stationed at the camp, holding a stack of paper and standing leaning against a wall of a wooden cabin. The man, with bandages covering about half of his face, including an eye, was directing every newcomer to their sleeping locations. Ira couldn't remember the name of the body he was possessing, so it was good that he had applied to the army with his actual name. This world, after all, didn't have anything that worked as IDs.

You could claim to be anyone you wanted.

Eventually, fter hours of waiting in a slow mpving line, it was his turn. The soldier didn't even glance at him as he asked, "Name?"

"Ira Snow."

He'd had to use this body's original last name when he filled out his application, but at least it was easier to remember then the overly complicated first name.

The soldiers hummed and said, "Okay. You're in tent 423-F in the east part of the camp. Take this map and follow the directions. Next!"

Ira accepted the map he was handed, despite the fact that he didn't it at all, and started making his way through the insanely big camp to get to his new tent. He didn't know how long they were going to be staying here, but he needed to establish that he was the BOSS to his new roommate. Otherwise, misunderstandings might evolve, and no-one wanted that.

There would be unfortunate casualties. People might even get caught in the crossfire. And no-one wanted a repeat of that unfortunate _accident_.

That would just be an absolute _tragedy_.

The tent he was assigned was about the same size as the last one, before they had started the two and a half long journey to this camp. Ira crawled in to find that it was empty, apparently his roommate had yet to arrive, and started making it comfortable. He arranged things just the way he liked them and fluffed up the pillow he claimed as his. It was the fluffier and more comfortable one.

About an hpur after he had finished and was just lazying about, a clear voice signified the coming of hus roommate. As soon as his roommate crawled far enough in to see Ira's face, his entire face crumpled and a look of deep despair toom over his eyes.

This was his old roommate, that Ira had had at the old camp. Talk about good luck. Now he didn't have to train a new one.

"Isn't this a lovely coincidence?" Ira smiled at his new/old roommate.

What good fortune!

The man abruptly fainted.

Ira tilted his head sideways in thought. Humans were such odd creatures, weren't they?

This time, the battle they were to fight in was experincing a lull in fighting when they arrived, so they had about two days to rest after the long march before they were sent off into battle.

During this time, the Hero had arrived at the demons camp, on the other side of tge mountain. Three months was certainly enough time to become a scarily powerful demon when one had the protagonist's halo.

About as difficult as stealing candy from a baby.

Just with, you know, lethal danger to motivate you to do the stealing in the first place.

At this point, Ira hadn't seen his Host with his pysical eyes in months, not that that was a bad thing. But now he was debating with himself about whether he should tell her or not that the so-called _love of her life_ would be present in the upcoming battle. On the other side.

As an enemy.

But... Ira had no obligation to tell his Host anything and the öast few months has proved that she didn't even think about him. Why shound he have to go out pf his way for her? Anyone could tell that she didn't truly love the the Hero. In order to do that, she would actually have to get to know him. He wasn't sure why his Host was so fixated on him, but it wasn't love.

A crush maybe, or a serious case of hero-worship, but not true _love_.

Not the kind of love that could bridge the gap between worlds.

Between universes.

The battlefield wasn't as big of a mess as the last one they had been on when they arrived. During the lull in fighting, somebody had obviously gone around and collected all the bodies to burn, which was what that odd smell had been when he had turned his sense of smell back on again after arriving at camp. Pn the other side of the field, covered by snow, there was hundreds of demons that were beginning to arrive.

The Hero, on the other hand, had not yet arrived.

Ira spun the dagger in his hand. He stood next to his roommate and potential new body on the field at a fairly flat piece of the mountain. His Host was on anpther part of the battlefield with the other powerful mages. Ira was only a common soldier that couldn't even use magic, so he was pretty much forgotten by the brass. But demons were attracted to pure strength, which meant that they essentially ignored him at the beginning of battles, so it was perfectly fine with him.

Then they figured out that they couldn't absorb the stronger soldiers, and everybody was fair game.

It was actually fun.

The battle commenced with the sound of a horn echoing over the battlefield.

At once, as if they had practiced this a thousand times, everybody started running, rushing towards the demons. Ira followed along by the flow and atruck hard and fast when he reached the lines of demons, who were running as well. Being at the very front of the battle line meant he had to fun fast not to get trampled by his own allies.

As always, fighting in a large battle as a common soldier was fun, becuase nobody kept an eye on you. You were free to fight as dirty as you liked. Ira especially enjoyed the part where he got to eviscerate demons that thought he was easy prey. And if he happened to kill some humans along the way...

Well, nobody could prove that it wasn't an accident.

Ira didn't tear through the battlefield so much as he just stayed in one place and killed anything that came even remotely near him. There were a lot of unfortunate victims of his knife and dagger that way.

But there also wasn't anybody who cared nearby. The people he just happend to kill becuase they got in his way, were common soldiers like him. They held no value to the brass and nobody would even notice them dying.

Much less throw him in jail for it.

A change in hus map nade Ira turned around and stare in another direction. He couldn't see anything with his physical eyes, but his mental one was searching for that broght beacon he would be able to recognize anywhere. Somewhere out there on the battlefield was the Hero, the protagonist of the story. Now if only he could find him...

"You're a very bloodthirsty little thing, aren't you?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Ira raked his eyes over the body about a step behind him. He knew very well who this was, but for the sake of not appearning all-knowing, he asked, "And who are you?"

"Alaric Gold." the demon, the Hero, answered.

Ira rose an eyebrow and decided to ignore him. It didn't matter if he got killed for it. "Well, it was nice meeting you Allie, but I've got things to do."

With that, he walked away.

Surprsingly, he wasn't killed for it. Nor did any demon come close to him for quite some time, so to combat his boredom, he had to hunt them down actively. That was the first time he had ever been searched out deliberately by a main character not his Host. Wonder what was wrong with that man?

Must be something quite serious.

The battle ended with a lot more fanfare than it deserved. Ira decided that he should probably go find his Host, though he knew full well that she was still alive. It seemed like something he should do after a battle, just to be polite.

He found his Host in a medical tent, being treated by a male healer that she had clearly been able to turn into her follower if the intense blush was any indication. Ira ignored the feeling of privacy they gave off, and intruded into their personal bubble with intentional rudeness.

Yeah, there was no way his Host was actually in love with the Hero.

His Host glared at him the moment she noticed him. "System, you can't come by unannounced. Why are you here?"

Ira just smiled at her, the fakest one he could. "The Hero was present in todays battle. I wanted to make sure you weren't dead."

His Host starec at him for a tense minute and then suddenly started crying and sniffling. "I know he was there. I even... even spoke to him. And he was so mean. He called me a weakling and said that I don't have any potential. And he... he said that he doesn't love me. That he has someone else."

His Host had a vicious look in her eyes when she demanded, "Who? Who does he love, System?"

Humming in thought, Ira answered. "That would be the Princess, Host."

"The Princess..." his Host growled and even her eyes shone with her power. She was clearly furious.

That couldn't lead to a good thing.

Maybe he should stop the clearly nefarious plans she was developing?

But that would be a lot of effort for somebody he didn't care about.

Better to just let her be and experience the sharp sword of failure (and knights) on her own. Surely she would just grow in her character for it.

Oh, it would be hilarious.

 


	7. 1.7

From one of the cabins on the mountain came a loud yell of shock. Ira rolled over where he was trying to take a nap in his tent. But due to the fact that his senses were always honed on his Host, even when he wanted nothing to do with them, he couldn't quite manage it. His Host was holding a meeting to discuss her plans with her most trusted followers, but it seemed like at least one of them was able to realize what a bad idea it would be.

His Host wanted to go to the stronghold of the demons, in order to find the Hero and prove her love.

In his mind, he could see how one of her followers, a clumsy looking short girl with large eyes and golden hair, stumbled out of the cabin with a look of deep shock on her face. It seemed this one was at least smarter than she looked.

Turning over on his mattreas again and hugging his stolen pillow closer to himself (his roommate unfortunately didn't have one anymore) Ira attempted once more to ignore the idiotness that was going on all around him. Not to mention that he had heard his Host egging on some of the male soldiers into killing the princess of the nation for her. It was slow going, but give it a few more weeks, and she would manage to convince them.

Ira wondered if all humans were this stupid, or if his Host was somehow contagious.

His roommate was whimpering in his sleep beside him, but Ira had long since learned to ignore that noise. They seemed to be suffering from an overabundance of nightmares. Which wasn't odd, what with all the demons they constantly fought.

Hugging his pillow even closer, to such an extent he would have suffocated it if it was alive, Ira burrowed deeper under his thick cover and sighed deeply. He'd turned down his ability to be influenced by the temperature, but he couldn't turn it all the way off, or it would be noticed, so he was still more cold then he was used to. In his natural form, he couldn't even _feel_ cold.

His mind showed the image of his Host standing over a table on which there laid a large map. She was pointing at it as they discussed the best way past the guards into the demons fortress. What wasn't said was how many of her followers that were going to die getting her there. Ira thought that his Host truly didn't think of it, that the thought honestly never even occured to her. She was so obsessed with her goal, with the Hero, that she couldn't even see the obvious way this was going to go.

Ira didn't think it was maliciousness, so much as just plain arrogance. She honestly thought this was going to go alright, that she would find the Hero and then they'd live happily ever after. She had read way to many stories where the cannon fodder counterattack and get everything they want.

Unfortunately, this wasn't such a story.

This was a save the world kind of story, one which she was failing.

Zooming out on his map, Ira let his mind go blank and finally managed to fall asleep.

The morning treated them to the same routine as always. Ira fumbled around in his tent, still half-asleep and on the edge of falling back into that delightful dreamworld. He dressed himself clumsily in his uniform and a warm coat, and strapped all his knifes and daggers to their rightful position.

Making his way to the cafeteria, Ira collected his rations and drank the warm water gratefully. His Host entered the cafeteria with the same drama that she always used, followed by her gang of followers and a series of resentful looks from female soldiers that were jealous of her. Ira saw her preen in the spotlight, treating it as if it was her right. He turned back from her and went back to eating his breakfast.

Ira _was_ good at his job, which meant that when his Host finally wondered off to infiltrate the stronghold of the demons, he would follow her.

Resentfully, but he would still follow.

Ira ate his food gratefully, thankful that he didn't have to endure hunger pangs. They were always so annoying to deal with. His Host and her followers were a loud collection of people, laughing and teasing and telling jokes, as if this world wasn't on the edge of destruction. He understood that humans were fragile creatures that didn't deal well with meeting proof of their mortality, but it was still a little excessive.

They could do well with calming down some.

The other soldiers that weren't part of this exclusive club gave them glares and resentful looks. These were people that actually took the fighting seriously and had lost people they loved to the demons. They didn't appreciate the fact that his Host traeted it as a game. Or that her followers were so jovial in the middle of all this death.

It made it seem like they lacked compassion.

Or just common decency.

Once he was finished with his breakfast, Ira deposited his tray to be cleaned and made his way to the training grounds. There were some targets put up by amateurs, but most of it was just open grounds where people could fight each other. Sometimes it was just a relief to fight an actual human being.

Ira picked up his knifes and daggers and got into position opposite another soldier. He ignored the fact that the camp was being spied on by the demons, and got to work.

He fought and he went for only non-lethal hits and didn't use the sharp edge of the blades, which just took all the fun right out of it. When the first opponent yielded, he moved om to another. And another. And another.

It was a little bit like therapy.

Eventually, after hours of hard work, he ran out of opponents. When he did, he moved on to another favorite practice of his.

Throwing his sharp, pointy weapons at people.

Or, in this case, the poorly constructed training dummies.

Throwing them at people was far more amusing, though.

Despite the fact that he was on the edge of exhaustion, Ira spent at least another hour just throwing them from different positions. Running, standing still, even sitting. When he got really tired, he laid down on the ground and just threw them from there. There were some helpful people that kept retrieving his weapons for him.

Not _all_ of humanity were obnoxious arrogant idiots, and thank the System God for _that_.

Ira didn't know how he would be able to endure working if that were the case.

He'd probably get fired and then he wouldn't be able to buy his manga or anime. In desperation, he'd take a job as an Observer, where his mission would be to visit all the worlds that ever had, did, or would exist amd write down their orignial stories. And Ira just wasn't cut out for that kind of work.

There was way too much illogicalness and way too many plot holes in those stories.

He much preferred changing them.

Ruining them because of an incompetent or uselessly arrogant Host worked too. Ira was paid regardless. It was the Hosts that suffered in the event of failure.

This was why new Hosts were such pains. They had not yet experienced failure, so the didn't know the absolute torment it was. As such, they didn't perform their mission with the dignity and seriousness it entailed.

The only one they could blame for their failure was themselves, but a lot of them still liked blaming him.

Which didn't, in any way, endear them to him.

Ira's picture of his Hosts had already been ruined by past painful memories.

After his long and hard training session, Ira went back to the cafeteria for food, followed by a short bath in warmed water before he retired to his tent for some well deserved sleep. He ignored his roommate, as was custom, and went straight to sleep. As a System, he didn't actually dream, he didn't have that capacity. But he could program movies or tv series to show in his sleep while his body got the rest it required.

He could enter a meditative state where it would all feel like a real dream and where _he_ also got rest from real life. It was the closest he could come to dreaming.

Just a few hours later, in the middle of the night, he was woken up again.

Ira blinked in the darkness and adjusted the settings on his eyes so he could see around himself. For some unfathomable reason, his Host's face was right in front of his eyes.

When she saw he was awake, she smiled at him and said, "Good, you're awake. We're leaving for the fortress now, System. Get up, we don't have any time to waste if we want to sneak past the patrols."

Ah, he remembered now. His Host was feeling suicidal.

He smiled a smile so fake it was probably physically painful to watch. "Of course, Host."

His Host frowned. "You could call me by my name, you know? You're the only one that knows it here."

Of course he couldn't. He didn't remember it. It was surely in her file, but if she didn't bother to even _ask_ if he had a name, why would he bother to remember hers?

"I know, Host."

His Host didn't see what the problem was, so Ira didn't bother to enlighten her. Instead, he packed his things and made himself ready, which didn't take long, given that he slept in full uniform. Otherwise it was just too cold. He burrowed into the coat and followed after his Host to where her followers stood waiting in the darkness.

They looked concerned, but brightened up when they saw his Host coming. None of them even spared him a glance, which showed how well he had chosen his current body. A true mob character.

Completely forgettable.

Ira followed after them as they started sneaking away from the camp, to make their way to the demons stronghold. They were actually pretty close by, about four days of walking at a decent speed should get them there, barring any unnecessary drama. That wasn't to say that getting there would be _easy_ , there were so many traps surrounding that place, not to mention actual guards, that it was almost ridiculous. At least if he died, there were plenty of unimportant bodies around him to jump into.

Sneaking past the guards and patrols surrounding the camp was easy, helped along by the fact that two of his Host's followers were patrolmen and knew the route they needed to take. As they were leaving the well taken care of camp, the snow that previously didn't bother them reached up to almost their knees at some places. Not to mention all the rocks and roots they couldn't see and kept tripping on.

Ira did his best at containing his gleefulness at the situation to himself. He didn't think they'd appreciate it. Everybody seemed way to highstrung.

A war about humanity's survival didn't get you serious, but a mission to unite your not-so-secret love with the love of her life did? Talk about skewed priorities.

Then again, humans weren't known for being logical.

Or rational, for that matter.

The moonlight showed the way for them, as the light bounced off the snow and lit up their way. The two dozen or so of his Host's followers lead the way while his Host stayed back, out of the way of danger. Considering the way things were going, Ira supposed the only question left to ask was; would the Hero kill his Host quickly, or torture her first?

It was a genuinly interesting question.

After all, the Hero should have _some_ feelings for Lynne, but the question was what those feelings would make him do. Demons weren't known for having warm and fluffy emotions. A demons love wasn't gentle, nor was it kind.

So did the Hero care enough about Lynne to kill her quickly, or did he not care at all and torture her for the fun of it?

Or was he like his Host, a person that deluded themselves about what love was, and already convinced he was in love with his Host?

Ira really hoped not.

That would just be pathetic.

 


	8. 1.8

Within three days, half the group was dead.

The stupider ones fell prey to traps, getting impaled, strung up or crushed by swinging tree-trunks. The weak ones were unknowing human shields for his Host, protecting her at their own cost. Ira walked along after her, watching with amusement as they were picked off one by one.

His Host faced the tragedy of her comrades by becoming even more determined to succeed, in order to make sure they didn't die for nothing. She seemed to stubbornly ignore the fact that that ship had already sailed.

Ira was quiet during the journey. Things were busy enough that he had no need to rile people up with sarcasm, when they were already panicking without him. With every death, someone screamed and cried, saying things about burying them and respecting them. But his Host was on a time table, she was a powerful resource of the army who had essentially abandoned her duty before a decisive battle. She was most certainly being hunted down to be dragged back to camp.

As such, there were no funerals, no fancy stones or any kind words. There were a few minutes of silence before danger meant that they had to battle for their lives again.

Not only was the foresty mountain they were traversing full of traps, but it also contained human-eating monsters and beasts.

It was, simply put, a death trap.

One which his Host was gladly walking into.

It seemed they weren't very smart (most likely, they became fools in front of his Host) for only few of them had bothered to pack water, not to mention food. Or medicine. Or even just simple gauze. Ira had no idea what it was about humans that made them so braindead in the face of infatuation, but he wanted no part in it.

That stuff was lethal.

The morning of their forth day of walking dawned bright and early. It was summer, but this high up in the north, you couldn't tell. Everybody, including he and his Host,  was bundled into warm coats and blankets as they trudged through the deep snow. There were only a handful of survivors, the smart and strong ones, now. And even Ira could tell that most of them had started to doubt this expedition. If not outright thinking of leaving.

After all, in the camp they had been safe behind barriers. Here, they were out in the wild open on a suicide mission for an ungrateful arrogant woman that didn't even love them back. No, she only ever had eyes for the demonic Hero. She barely even spared them a glance when they died for her.

Any kind of love could fade from that.

Or turn into burning hatred.

It was still a toss-up on what would happen to theirs. Personally, Ira was rooting for hatred, as it would be far more dramatic and amusing.

Thankfully, some people had been smart enough to grab a few tents they could all squeeze into during the freezing nights. Unfortunately, those people were now dead. Still, Ira appreciated the foresight they had and honored them with a few kind words on the road. It was more then most people ever got from him.

Twisting all of his bones to get get rid of the stiffness sleeping in such cold caused, Ira approached the fire in the middle of the camp. The smoke from it gave off their position to anyone looking, but it was too cold not to have one. Even with the risks. Ira sat down on a luckily placed log close to the flames and let his eyes drift over the tired members of his Host's followers. All of them looked exhausted, tired in a way that seeped into their very bones.

Ira hadn't cared enough to pay attention what kind of fairytale it was his Host sold these poor suckers, but he imagined it wasn't this. This freezing temperature and high death rate.

Soon after, another man followed his lead and sat down. Ira observed him, the dark shadows under his eyes, the stubble on his chin and the slump of his shoulders. All of them looked like that. On the edge of giving up.

This was the moment his Host chose to walk up.

Ira ignored the smile she deigned to give everyone, the way her blue eyes sparkled at being so close to her goal, and the way she sat down on a log the others quickly vacated. She was beaming at everyone around herself, obviously in an inappropriately good mood. Especially considering how many people had recently died for her.

Ira could already see the hatred starting to infect the people around her. They were soldiers, powerful ones too, and could take a lot of bad things. But, evidently, his Host's attitude in the face of their comrades deaths was the last nail in the coffin. Ira was almost proud of them, for overcoming the blindness that was admiration.

After eating a breakfast that consisted of a few small monsters the soldiers had hunted, his Host cleared her throat and said, "We're losing daylight. If we pick up our speed, we can reach the fortress by nightfall. Start packing up."

Having said her piece, his Host returned to doing whatever it was she did when she was just sitting around, not helping at all. Daydreaming, Ira supposed.

At the very least, she was completely useless as they cleaned up the camp and erased any trace of them ever having been there. The snow that had once again started to fall would take care of the rest.

As Ira halfheartedly packed up his tent, he found his line of sight to once more fall on his Host's followers. They were diligently working, but even he could see that they were suppressing rage while doing so. And Ira wasn't exactly good aat figuring out human emotions. Pulling his scarf up over the lower portion of his face, Ira decided to ignore it. Whatever they were feeling was of no concern to him.

They left the camp shortly after.

Hours passed as they walked, two more getting caught up in traps and left to die because his Host didn't want to wait for them. She was determined that this was the day she was going to reach the Hero, and prove her love to him.

The resentment was practically seeping off of her followers.

Well, Ira could sympathize. He hadn't liked it when he was used and discarded either.

Hatred was a common conclusion from that.

When they finally met a demon guard, it was a sudden thing.

Three more followers dropped dead on the spot, unprepared for the vicious attack by a humanoid demon with birdlke looks. It dropped down from the trees, riding the wind with brutal looking wings. It held no weapons, but used its claws and teeth to tear into the human band.

As it wounded the more powerful members, his Host finally toom action instead of just hanging back and dired off a beam of light that vaporised the demon on the spot. It was needlessly energy-consuming, needlessly flashy (she might as well have waved a sign saying "I am here!") and needlessly powerful. There was a smugness in her gaze when she looked at her followers after that, as if she was proud that she had to save them.

Her followers steeled their gazes, and Ira could feel a new determination coming from them. They were definately up to something.

The question was what.

Shaking his head slightly, Ira resolved not to care abput it. He was just as busy trying not to die as the rest of them, because dying, much less by a demons claws, was actually painful. It was easy, yes, and not a problem for a being like him. But it was still a drag when it wasn't necessary. Especially in situations such as these, where it might be difficult to find a new body to possess if they all died first.

And he had to mention every time he died and possessed a new body in his reports and it was always so _embarressing_ to note that you had fallen prey to traps. There were people that actually read those things, after all.

_Sadists, the lot of them._

Shuddering a little in disgust, Ira followed after the rest of them as they once again began to walk. The few people left alive huddled closer together, away from he and his Host, and Ira watched as they whispered to each other, making frantic motions all the while. Ira _could_ hear what they were talking about, but that was too much effort. If it was important, he'd find out eventually.

Until then, he'd just leave it.

Ira had the opportunity to use his knifes and daggers nearly a dozen times more in the coming hours. Every demon that came at them was more powerful then the last and Ira always waited for his Host to kill them for him. The way she went from an overpowered woman to an exhausted one because she couldn't pace herself was entertaining.

More of her followers died, until they could be counted on the one hand. Ira watched them get torn to shreds, falling in pitfalls and bleeding out. None of their deaths lokked pleasant, but Ira wasn't shaken from it. His Host's followers on the other hand, the few she had left, were very clearly so. And by the looks they were throwing around, they very clearly blamed his Host for it.

Which she rightfully deserved.

This was, after all, all her idea.

By the time they finally reached the fortress, the stronghold of the demons, they were exhausted. Even Ira was tired from all of the walking and fighting.

The wall they reached was so high it seemed as if it reached the clouds. It was made of a black stone thaf seemed like it rose naturally from the mountain. Inside the fortress, Ira could see the Hero sitting on a thorne, still golden-haired despite his new nature. At first glance, he didn't seem like a demon.

Then you noticed his heavy opressing aura, and it was unmistakable.

It was his Host that found they way inside.

She pressed along the wall until a hatch was heard and a portion of it opened inwards. She didn't hesitate to step inside and Ira and the two followers left followed behind her. Despite the fact that she was tired amd exhausted, it was as if she was given more energy being so close to her goal now.

They wondered through the hallways, that oddly didn't contain a single guard, the only light bcoming from his Host's magic. She used it to light up the way, but it didn't make the place any less creepy.

Nobody spoke a word.

Their steps echoed in the silence.

Even the sound of them breathing was loud amd attention grabbing. The fact that there were no guards made it clear that the Hero was up to something (it seemed as if _everyone_ was) but it didn't appear to worry his Host. She just kept going with a single-minded intensity that would be impressive in another situation.

Past corners and long winding hallways, they gradually made their way upwards thanks to strategically placed stairs, so spread out you could hardly notice them. Only the occacional window let them know it.

Eventually, they reached a set of large decorated doubledoors. They were huge, going way up towards the high ceiling, and dark like everything else. His Host was the first one to approach them and with a frown, she slowly pushed them open. Ira had no idea where she got the strength, but her magic had to amount to something more than just a waste of energy, he supposed.

The doors opened to a large brightly lit throne room. And on the throne sat the Hero, looking just as handsome as a demon as he had when he was a human.

He smiled and said, "Welcome."

 


	9. 1.9

Ira blinked and frowned. The Hero seemed oddly pleased. Was he like his Host then? An idiot when it came to love?

At his side, his Host breathed heavily, completely exhausted but still radiating satisfaction. She cleared her throat several times before she was able to get out a sentense. "Alaric! I've come to prove our love! I've come to save you!"

This time, Ira didn't bother to hide his embarrassement and hid his face in his hands. When he peeked out between his fingers, he could see the stunned look on the Hero's face. Somehow, he still looked unfairly handsome.

The Hero got over his surprise fast and laughed. It echoed in the large room. "Are you serious?"

His Host scowled and stated, furiously, "Of course I am! I love you!"

The Hero just laughed some more and smirked. "I'm a demon, girl. You can't _save_ me."

"Of course I can! The system said so. If I can prove that we truly love each other, you will be human again!" His Host stubbornly insisted while glaring.

At that, the Hero laughed so hard that he doubled over on the throne. Ira continued hiding his face and hoping that he would escape notice. This was so enbarrassing! To think that his Host could just come out and say stuff like that. Did she think she was being cool or something?

"And who is this System that lied to you?"

Immediately, his Host pointed to him and Ira sighed and brought his hands down. He had really hoped she wouldn't reveal that. She informed them all, "He said that as long as our love is true, you'd be cured. And it wasn't a lie. The system can't lie to me. He works for _me_. Tell them, System. They just don't know. Tell them!"

"Actually..." Ira began. "I lied. There is no way to reverse the process. A demon can _not_ become human again."

"Wh-what? But you said... you're my system. You can't lie to me." His Host whispered with a look of pure disbelief and denial on her face.

Ira rolled his eyes. "Yeah, no. I can lie to you. I don't know where you got the idea that I can't."

"So then, this whole time, what have I been doing?" she mumbled.

Ira promptly responed with, "Embarrassing yourself. And leading people to their deaths."

She shook her head wildly, causing her red hair to dance around her face. "No. No, I haven't led _anyone_ to their death. You're lying _now_ , system. This is _my_ story. You brought me back from my death for this! So you have to be lying! I just need to prove my love! Then you'll see!"

Ira took several steps back as he saw the manic look in her eyes. Evidently, she wasn't taking the news well. Magic was gathering at her fingertips, ready to be released just from her strong emotions. Ira didn't think she was even aware of it. A glow surrounded her, her powerful magic physically influencing the world.

She stalked forward, towards the Hero sitting on the black throne. Ira watched, interested, for what she was going to do in her emotional state.

She yelled, "I did not do this for _nothing!_ I came all this way, became this powerful, for a reason! You can't take this away from me, system! You're nothing but a tool for me to use!"

Walking ever closer to the Hero, his Host's eyes started glowing from her sheer amount of power. Just as she reached the last few steps and rose her hand to do something undoubtedly impressive but unnecessary, she fell over onto her face.

There were two arrows sticking out of her back.

Ira's eyebrows rose in surprise and he followed the line of the arrows back until his eyes met the door. There stood one of his Host's followers with the bow still raised. He was sweating and trembling, but he had a deathgrip on the bow and another arrow lotched. Letting it sail, Ira watched as it joined the other two in his Host's unprotected back. A groan came from her before she fell silent again.

Ira could see, in his minds eye, as her health bar rapidly depleted. She was dying.

Her follower lowered the bow when it became clear she wasn't getting up again. He swallowed loudly. "I had to do it! She led my little brother to his death! I had to avenge him!"

As the man spoke, his Host's health bar reached zero and her soul left the possessed body. To his senses and eyes, it appeared as a sort of colorless mist that soon disappeared. It would return to the Waiting Room, where she would then be taken to another, much more unpleasant, room to be punished for her failure and then assigned a new mission and system. If she wasn't just fired and put back into the reincarnation cycle of her original world.

That was one epic failure.

Ira sighed and dragged his hand through his hair. On one of the screens in his mind were the blazing words _Mission Failed._ He hoped they wouldn't cut his salary for this. It wasn't like it was his fault his Host was so stubborn. There was nothing else to it, he supposed. Time to go back.

He began cutting the connecting his soul had with this body.

A hand snagged his wrist just as he was about to cut the last ones. Ira frowned and looked up straight ahead where the Hero stood with a tight, painful, grip on his wrist. "What do you think you're doing?"

The Hero smirked in reply. "I would think that that's my question."

"She's dead. My mission is over. It's time to go home, write a bad report and collect my payment." Ira deadpanned.

"I don't think so." Grabbing his other hand, the Hero stepped closer, until they were almost touching. Ira had to look up to make eye-contact and for once, he cursed his average height. The male protagonists were always so damn tall.

Ira smiled, a bland emotionless thing, and asked, "And what makes you think you have a say?"

"What makes you think I don't?"

Ira frowned and repeated. "She's dead. I have no reason to stay in this world."

The Hero smiled. "You could stay with me and we could rule this world together."

"Are you sick?" Ira asked, fully serious.

At this, the Hero frowned but answeresd with, "I'm not sick. I'm perfectly serious. Stay here with me. I'll make sure that you won't get bored."

"As lovely as that offer sounds," Ira began and backed away as much as possible while the Hero kept his tight grip on his wrist. "I'm afraid that I have to decline. I have other business to be doing. Just because she died doesn't mean my job is finished. Rather, I will be more busy now."

A blatant lie, obviously. The only thing Ira would be doing when he got home was take a sick-leave, citing emotional trauma from his Host, and spending his days lazying about. There were no urgent business he needed to get to. He had recorded this entire mission, from start to failure. That would be enough as far as reports went.

Another perk of being so high up in rank.

The Hero followed after him, bringing them closer together again. "I want to spend the rest of eternity with you. You can't leave."

"Are you an idiot? Who says that to someone they don't even know?" Ira demanded.

"I know you. It feels like I've known you forever." The Hero said and frowned. "You were the first person I saw when I became a demon. You were beautiful. You _are_ beautiful. I want to spend my life with you. I want to give you anything you desire. I want to give you _everything_."

Ira didn't quite manage to keep his distate from showing in his expression. "You're insane. You know nothing about me. Quit talking like this is a bad romance novel. You're just making a fool of yourself."

A hard glint appeared in the Hero's eyes. "I will not allow you to leave me."

"Then it's a shame you can't stop me." Ira said and smirked in satisfaction. It would only take a few seconds to cut the remaining ties to this body. The only reason he was sticking around was because he was curious. It was a particularly troublesome trait of his.

"I am the Demon Lord. I can most certainly stop you, Ira." The Hero murmured to him. They were so close he had no problem hering it.

Ira furrowed his brow and asked, "You remember my name?"

The Hero let go of one of his hands to bring his hand up to Ira's face. Touching it gently, the Hero leaned even closer and said, "Of course, I remember it. You are my beloved. I could never forget you."

Ira stared into the Hero's eyes, watching them for any sign of deceit. When he found nothing but desperation and honesty in them, he swallowed deeply and whispered to the Hero, "It doesn't change anything though. You are just delusional, a side-effect of becoming a demon. You can say whatever pretty words you like, but until I have proof that you mean them, I'll never believe you."

"If it's proof that you want, I'll give it to you." The Hero stated and changed the position of his hand from Ira's face to the back of his head. "I'll prove to you that I will always love you, no matter where you go or what you do. I'll prove that you are the one thing I shall never forget, no matter what happens. Wherever you go, I will follow."

Scoffing, Ira leaned back as far as the man would allow him. "You can't promise me that. _Nobody_ can promise anyone that. They're just empty words."

"Words are only empty when you don't mean them. I'm the nost powerful demon this world has ever seen. There is nothing I can not do." The Hero smiled and let go of his wrist to curve his arm around Ira's waist. "Just trust me."

"Trust is an overrated qaulity." Ira offered. The Hero just smiled mysteriously in answer.

Ira wasn't sure why, but somehow the kiss was still sudden.

It was slow and gentle and at first he wasn't even sure it was really happening. He hadn't really done a lot of kissing in his life. The last one was on a mission some Hosts ago when he possessed a man already married. But this kiss wasn't like _those_ had been.

Ira brought his hands up to the Hero's shoulders and gripped them tight. He tilted his head to make it easier and allowed himself to lean his weight on the demon. It wasn't like he was feeling weak in the knees, he wasn't some fairytale character, but the man had kissed him, so he might as well use him as support to keep standing. He hadn't, after all, made it through the mountain undamaged.

The kiss deepened and Ira thought that maybe this was quite nice, after all. He didn't really know if it was something he wanted to do again though.

Ira didn't know when exactly he'd closed his eyes, but when he opened them again, the man was leanong back and smirking at him with pleasure and victory shining in his eyes. "See?" The Hero whispered. "You belong with me."

Involuntarily, Ira felt a shiver run down his back. He supposed he could sort of understand why humans seemed so enchanted with the act of kissing and physical intimacy. In small quantities, it could be... pleasant. Still though, if he was weak enough that a kiss was all it took to effect him, he wouldn't be as high up in rank that he was.

So, Ira smiled and said, "I don't think so."

With nothing but a thought, the last of the ties keeping his soul connected with this body severed, and Ira left a dead body behind himself as he left this world, quite satisfied with his entertainment.

It had been _fun_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Arc 1.


	10. 2.1

Hundreds of students were gathered in the large auditorium, sitting in rows upon rows. At the lowest point, in the middle of the room, right in front of the stage, sat the freshmen. The uniforms blazers were colored a dark red with black linings, the school-crest in silver on the right chest, the girls wearing kneelength black skirts and the boys black slacks. As they were only freshmen, they only had the one silver pin on their collars.

Up on the stage stood a proud old man, the Headmaster of the school, delivering a speech that only the freshmen were actually listening to.

In the middle of this mess of new students sat Ira with a bored look on his face. The body he was possessing was once more average. Brown hair and brown eyes, together with the most common magical element in this world, that of the Earth. After his leave was over, he was finally asigned a new Host, this one hopefully better then the last one. He wasn't holding his breath though.

The mission this time was drastically different from the last one. There was no world that was ending and his new Host was in no danger from death, unless she screwed spmething up royally. As evident from him possessing a body, they were once more in the Tutorial Mode.

They were in a world of magic, but monsters and demons didn't exist here. No, _this_ was a love story.

Unfortunately, the heroine died before it could begin.

So his Host had taken over the heroine's body and her mission was really very simple. Make sure the story played out as it was supposed to.

Nothing more, nothing less.

The heroine was Eliza, a fifteen year old girl from a small village in the country-side. She grew up with a single mother and had to work hard every day in order for them to make it through the years and she never knew her father, as he had died before she was even born. It was the classic sad backstory.

But this girl had something incredibly rare in this world. The magic element of Light.

At the age of fourteen, all subjects of the Kingdom were required to take a test. This test revealed if you had the ability of magic, and if so, what sort. If it was rare or powerful enough, then no matter your standing in society, you were offered a scholarship to the most prestigous (and only) academy of magic in the land. Only a fool would turn it down. It was a free ticket to a better life. Even if you did poorly in academics or you couldn't even read, as long as you learned to use your magic in _some_ capacity, you were essentially set for life.

For nearly everyone in the Kingdom, it was a dream come true to be offered a scholarship.

Eliza, the heroine, was like all others when it came to this. Once given the scholarship after her test, she immediately started learning how to read and write, something she had never had the time for before.

But, sadly, distaster struck.

Bandits came to the village and while trying to protect her mother, Eliza was kidnapped. She was a young pretty woman, why wouldn't she be?

The bandits headquarters were in the mountains above the village, so that was were they headed. But while on the road, they were attacked by a pair of bears and in the terror, Eliza was dropped and as the mountain was very steep, she rolled down kilometers of it. By the time she slowed to a stop, she was already dead.

During no part of this tragedy had she used her magic.

It was at this time that his Host had jumped in.

When his Host transmigrated into Eliza's body, the body was automatically healed of all major wounds and the heart started beating again. Everything pretty much fixed itself, aside from a few minor bruises, scratches and broken bones. But no life-threatening injuries remained.

Sadly, because the body he was possessing was utterly average, Ira hadn't been able to be physically by his Host's side until they finally started school. This body, after all, came from an average family in an averaged sized town. No tragedy had ever occured to it, aside from an outbreak of a plague a few years back that had taken the lifes of some of his family members. But the plague had taken family members from _everyone_ , so that was still completely average.

Now, here they were, about to begin their first year of study at Hope Academy.

It was such a drag.

Sighing, Ira leaned back in his chair and returned his focus to the stage. The President of the Student Council was in the middle of another boring speech. This was the man that had Eliza not died, she would have eventually, after an unnecessarily dramatical journey, married.

The Second Prince of the Kingdom, and the future King.

The speech was concluded to a thunderous applause, probably just because he was a prince, as the speech had been downright dull. And a dull speech never got appluaded like _that_.

Ira stood with the rest of the student body after the torture was finally over with. He stretched his body and followed after the other freshmen as they departed from the auditorium. Following along behind them, he caught sight of his Host walking a few meters ahead of him. She was a golden haired woman with a pair of deep green eyes. Despite the fact that she had worked at a farm her entire life, she still looked dainty and fragile, and her hands were completely free of any callouses.

It was either due to her magic or the fact that she was a protagonist.

Ira, on the other hand, came from minor nobility, so he only had the callouses that came from spending a lot of time writing. Apparently, this body had aspired to be an author before it slipped in the bath and died, which was when Ira had oh so conveniently taken over.

He had read the boy's works. It wasn't anywhere _close_ to good.

In fact, it was so bad it was actually funny.

Ira had, like all the new students, gotten a packet from the school which contained a map, information and key to his room in the dorms, and a schedule as well as a list of books necessary for his classes.

He used the map now to find his way to his dorm.

As he was possessing a boy and his Host a girl, they, _unfortunately_ , couldn't room anywhere near to each other. The school took its students chastity very seriosuly, mostly because the majority of the students came from good families and had arranged marriages ahead of them. Therefore, the girl and boy dorms were on completely different ends of the schoolgrounds.

When Ira reached the house (mansion) his room was in, he entered it dutifully behind a gang of other students, both new and old. One thing that he enjoyed about this school was the fact that nobody had to share rooms, unless of course, they were a scholarshup student. So Ira would have a whole room and bathroom to himself.

His room was on the third floor, though the building had five. After ascending the stairs, he had to walk quite a bit in the halls before he reached his door, where a silver plaque had this body's name on it.

Ira shoved a silver key into an equally silvery lock (this school really liked silver) and opened the door.

The room was comfortably sized, containing a bed and bedside table next to one of the walls. There was a desk under a window, a drawer and closet at the foot of the bed and two bookcases on the same wall as the entrance door. On another wall  there was another door, presumably leading to the aforementioned bathroom.

In the middle of the floor was a grey carpet and the walls were the same dark red color as the school uniform.

Ira loved it.

It held everything he needed for a quiet and peaceful school life.

On the carpet in the middle of the room stood two giant trunks. They contained his luggage, one of them filled with nothing but books.

Immediately, Ira began the process of unpacking. He had brought everything he needed with him, and uniforms according to his measurement were already in the closet. His own clothes he put in the drawer, like his underwear and socks, as well pajamas and the clothes he had brought from home, comfortable rather than fashionable.

Finished with his collection of clothes, more then he honestly thought he needed, but this body's mother was a force to reckoned with, Ira moved on to the books. The books (among which was his school books) managed to completely fill one of the bookcases and the other was left empty for yhe lack of more things. But Ira had the sneaking suspicion that this was going to be a long mission, much longer than his last one, and he would probably have time to fill it later as time passed by.

The trunks only just managed to fit under the bed and Ira had the unsettling feeling he probably wouldn't ever manage to get them out from under there. They seemed to be quite thoroughly stuck.

As he was finally done with all that needed to be finished before school started the very next day, Ira took off his uniform and hung it up on the closet to be worn the next day. Instead, he dressed in his pajamas, which were a light blue color, and went to explore his bathroom.

Like his bedroom, it was of decent size, not very big or very small, but still gave off a feeling of style.

There was a white bath taking up a whole side of it, with a showerhead above it, an ordinary toilet and a sink, above which there was a silver-framed mirror. Truly, it was a very good bathroom, containing everything Ira needed. And he wouldn't even have to share it with anyone.

When he saw the bath, Ira just couldn't resist it.

It was like it called to him.

After his bath, Ira brushed his teeth, did his business with the toilet, and turned off all of ghe lights. He saw just fine in the darkness and found his way to his bed easily, slipping under the covers without a sound.

Once in bed, Ira stared up at the white ceiling.

In his mind, he could see as his Host settled into her own room, whoch she shared with another scholaship student a year above her. She unpacked her meager belongings, and then started up a conversation with her roommate.

Eliza (What? They had already been in this world for a couple of months, Ira couldn't be expected to still remember her name.) sat on one of the two beds in the room as they spoke, the other student situated on her own bed. His Host seemed genuinly interested in her roommate, which Ira reluctantly supposed was a point in her favor.

Ira watched as she talked about her (Eliza's) childhood and how traumatic it had been. How it was her hope that she would do well at school so she could provide a better life for her mother. Ira didn't care if that was the truth or not, but there was no need to start crying while talking about it.

That was a little over the top.

His Host seemed content to talk long into the night, but Ira actually wanted to get some sleep, so he stopped paying any particular attention to what his Host was doing and closed his eyes. He hummed a little melody to himself and let his mind slow down. He had the feeling that there was something he should remember, something about a promise on his last mission, but really, it had been so long, he couldn't be expected to remember every insignificant detail.

Well, it wasn't like it was important.

 


	11. 2.2

The first day of classes dawned bright and early.

Ira sleep-walked his way through getting ready in the morning, his hair sticking up in every possible direction. He, once again, gave into the temptation and took a bath, brushed his teeth, attempted to do _something_ about his hair and got dressed in his uniform, the same one he wore the day before. He collected all of the books he would need for the day, buried them in a black sachel and locked the door behind him when he left.

As he made his way to the cafeteria for breakfast, he honed in on his Host and watched as she was still sleeping. Regardless, he wasn't a wake-up-call and it was better she learned that fast.

Ira entered the doubledoors to the cafeteria in another building, separate from the dorms and classrooms. Inside, there was a high painted ceiling with multiple chandeliers hanging down above the numerous tables. It certainly looked like something out of a fairytale.

Gathering a tray filled with food, Ira found a table tucked away in a corner, unnoticable thanks to a few strategically placed plants. Unconcerned with whether someone had already claimed the table, he sat down easily, hidden from the view of others, including his Host. If she woke up in time for breakfast at all, which, honestly, didn't seem likely.

Students started to trickle in in increacing numbers soon after he started eating. All of them wore their uniforms, though a particular group (the supposed deliquents) wore their shirts untucked and sans ties, some with pearcings or dyed hair. They all sat in different groups.

In the middle of his eating, someone tried to sit at his table.

Ira, very politely, held up his hand, glowing a soft green, and glared.

The poor soul squeeked and bolted so fast that they spilled the water on their tray. It didn't even slow them down.

Satisfied with his ability to terrify people (he had been working on it, it was a very efffective way to be left alone, unbothered) Ira finished his breakfast well in time to find his way to his classes. His Host still hadn't woken up.

The building where the classrooms were located in were just as luxurious as the rest of the campus. High ceilings, beautful paintings on the walls and light that high-ligthed it all. There were fountains with gorgeous statues spread all over the grounds, the grass was a bright green and colorful flowers lined all of the paths with wooden benches placed in between them. The sun shined down on it all indiscrimately, making it all appear as something right out of a storybook.

It was enough to make one nauseous.

Ira walked into his assigned classroom (after getting lost about four or five times and having to consult the map) to find it almost completely empty. There were two other students, both girls, already in, but they were the only ones. One was at the very front, as close to the teacher's desk she could come and the other was at the back, next to an open window. Both looked like the studious, asocial students that he often saw in mangas.

Making his way between the chairs and tables and up the slow stairs that brought him higher, he made his way to the middle of the room and chose a seat smack in the middle. It was about as average as he could make it, which was always the goal when he possessed a body. Being inconspicious.

Unimportant.

He settled into his seat easily on the chair and sat his bag down in front of him on the table. As the minutes ticked on, more students slowly started to enter.

The teacher, a handsome man in his early twenties, entered just before the bell rang. He leaned back against his desk and stared out over all of the students as more of them entered, the speed of which picked up as the time got closer to eight. As soon as the bell rang, the teacher closed and locked the door.

His Host still wasn't awake.

Ira leaned back against his chair and listened as the teacher shot off right into a lecture, after a short roll call, wihtout bothering to mention the one absent person. It was on the fascinating subject of magical theory, and that actually wasn't sarcasm. It _was_ utterly fascinating, the way magic behaved, how its rules and laws (if it even had any) changed in every single world. Every single world with magic was different, no matter how similar it seemed on the surface.

And the man certainly knew what he was talking about.

So Ira decided to take advantage of his rare good luck and enjoy the lecture while his Host was only just waking up, and in the midst of complete panic. She was a scholarship student, she couldn't afford to be late, much less on the first day. Unfortunately, part of the reason (actually, it was the only reason) she had been given this mission was because of how similar she was in personality to the original Eliza. Which meant that the whole being late on the first day thing was actually the way it was _supposed_ to go.

That didn't mean it wasn't damn hilarious, watching her running around in total and utter panic. After all, in order to ensure her actions and reactions were actually genuine, Ira couldn't tell her what was going to happen. Her acting, if it could even be called that, wasn't great.

It seemed like a lot of Hosts were total amateurs when it came to acting.

His Host fought her way into her uniform, not even buttoning it up correctly, and hurried off to find her class. Ira observed as she ran all over the campus, looking in through windows, without once looking at the map she had in her pocket. Instead she made a racket and disturbed dozens of classes as she tried to find her way, running loudly through the halls.

The class was nearing its end when she had her fateful first meeting with the Second Prince. His Host was dashing through yet another hallway that she had already been in when she ran straight into him.

There was a loud _oomph_ and because she was lighter, she fell down on the ground while the man was completely unmoved. She dropped the books she was carrying, because for some unfathomable reason she didn't have a bag, and stared up at the prince, utterly stunned.

Her green eyes were wide, making her look harmless and fragile, and she stared up without moving. The prince leaned down sligthly, offering her his hand, and she grasped it with a shiver. It was a magical moment.

Too bad his Host's map had fallen out from her pocket while she fell, making it seem like she was deliberately trying to run late in an attempt tp seduce the prince. It was something that often happened, especially with first-years. They just didn't know any better.

The prince really didn't look favorable upon those who tried to seduce him.

The original Eliza had honestly lost the map, which took care of this entire problem, but his Host was so scatter-brained that she had just forgotten it. In some situations, it was cute. In others, it was downright annoying.

Ira saw the look on the prince's face change, doing an abrupt 180. It went from neutral curiosity to hostile in the blink of an eye.

Yeah, his Host was off to an _amazing_ start.

The bell rang and the class ended.

As they were dignified people, most of them with noble heritage or at least wealth,  they didn't run in the halls, even though it was recess. Instead, they exited the classroom in a controlled and elegant manner, a stark contrast to his Host that didn't seem to even remember the fact that manners for nobility was a thing that existed. Ira didn't feel like pushing and prodding his way through the horde of students, no matter how graceful they were, and waited until he was the last one left in the room to stand up.

The teacher was still sitting at his desk, probably waiting on his next class, and so Ira walked right by him to get to the door. He had his sachel over his shoulder and walked on right out the door, ignoring the odd look the man gave him. It was probably because he actually paid attention to the lecture.

For some reason, quite a few people had been thinking about other stuff.

In the same corridor as the classroom he had just exited from was, some of the students had stopped walking and was staring at a scene. Ira followed their lead, curious about was going on, and immediately felt the urge to hide his face.

There was his Host and the Second Prince. How in the hell had she managed to miss the fact that she walked right pass the right classroom at least four times?!

Ira took a discrete step back, so he wasn't in her line of sight, and watched (for once with his physical eyes) as the Prince helped her up and then dropped her hand as if it was poisonous. His Host had on a look on her face that said she was confused as she bent down to retrieve her stuff without any help whatsoever from the male protagonist. She gathered it in her arms, her face getting steadily redder the more time that passed, and stood back up and stuttered out,

"Th-thank y-you."

The prince's face only got colder.

"The next time you find yourself lost, Miss Campbell, look at your map." he stated harshly. "And it'll do you good to remember to apologize when you run into someone."

His Host swallowed deeply in response and said, "S-sorry."

"We are not familiar enough for you to address me without the correct title." The prince narrowed his eyes in displeasure.

"I'm sorry, my lord." His Host said, making an effort to appear proper. It didn't do much good. She had already screwed up the first scene, where the Second Prince was supposed to be intrigued by her, which would lead to future interactions, which would then lead to love. At least there wasn't any love at first sight nonsense.

He had had quite enough of that, thank you very much.

"Good," the prince said and continued with, "now stop disrupting the classes."

With that, the Second Prince left, not even giving his Host a second glance. His Host was still standing where he left her, seemingly in shock of her treatment. For some reason, she had thought that making him fall in love with her would be easy. Apparently, she had been very popular in her original world.

Like that actually mattered.

Regardless, she was now in shock and unable to form a word. Ira took it as the belssing it was and hid behind the other students to leave. If she saw him, she would undoubtedly complain and demand he fix it for her, as so many other Hosts had done in the past.

So, following the sensible actions of the male protagonist, Ira left his Host behind, alone and stunned into silence. Which was a blessed thing, considering how much she talked.

It seemed like that was all she could do.

Ira brought out his map and searched for the next classroom he would be going to, according to his schedule. It was still morning and they had a lot of classes left to cover. Apparently, the teachers here believed in pushing their students headfirst into classes and lectures they could barely understand unless they had had prior tutoring. Which, let's be honest, the rich and nobles had had.

The next class was Politics, which was wildly uninteresting, and so Ira spent that class searching for the location of his Host, who still hadn't gotten to a single class. She was right where he left her, her face chalk white and her eyes incomprehending of the day's happenings.

That day, she didn't make it to a single class.

How incredibly pitiable.

 


	12. 2.3

The next few weeks passed in a similar, if slow, fashion. His Host didn't manage to meet up with the Second Prince once, was lectured very viciously by the prinicipal of the instituion for her bad manners in the face of royalty, skipping of classes and her general lateness.

She was late to most of her classes.

Ira only barely managed to pass the classes that he held no interest in, such as Politics or Filosophy, mainly because he didn't do the homework for them. But the classes that were actually worth his time was a different story. Granted, he couldn't pass with flying colors, that wouldn't be very average, now would it? But he could pass well above the standard. The classes he was practically failing more than made up for it.

The table in the cafeteria had effectively become _his_ table, as he sat there at every meal. No-one else dared to occupy it.

Well, they didn't _now_.

At the beginning... that was another story.

The point was, Ira had his own table, his own corner of the school where nobody _dared_ to go. He might not be powerful, but he knew how to use the power he did have. In his opinion, subtle was always the way to go. Something his Host did not seem to understand the definition of.

His Host had managed to cling onto her scholarship by use of a ridiculous level of cuteness, blatant manipulation if he ever saw it. But when she wasn't in class (or running to them because she was, yet again, late) she was all over the school grounds in search of the Second Prince. And everybody knew it.

She'd ask people where he was, spy on people using her magic, follow after the upperclassmen trying to get into his dorms...

Honestly, she was a stalker.

And that was putting it nicely.

Ira yawned and stared at the teacher at the head of the classroom, writing on the blackboard with chalk. The black-haired male reminded him of somebody, but he just couldn't recall who. It was both frustrating and annoying.

They were heading into the area where the magical theory could be used in practice, but had not yet reached it. In the very front of the classroom sat his Host, who had come late and been forced to choose a seat that nobody wanted. She was laying with her head on her hands, undoubtedly asleep.

The teacher didn't wake her up.

This was another reason why he appreciated this teacher over the others. Not only did he have a no-nonsense attitude, but he would also leave his students to hang themselves. If you were late, you had to climb in through the window (if one was open, otherwise you missed the whole class), if you fell asleep, he didn't wake you up, if you didn't finish your homework, you had to finish it for the next week, together with that week's homework.

Ira could appreciate that kind of practicality.

It was the most decent preperation for adulthood he had ever witnessed.

On the other hand, the man also very visibly didn't give a shit about his students, but details, right? Who cared about that?

He knew what he was teaching, that was already a cut above most teachers he had met.

What more could you need?

Humans. So damn demanding.

The man finished writing on the board and turned to face the students. His eyes reminded Ira of a demon.

"Your homework for this week. Don't forget to include sources and remember to work individualy. This will be preperation for the major project we will be undertaking in groups this year. If you don't know the materiel, your groups will most certainly hate you."

Ira copied down the information of the task and stored it in his files. The teacher continued.

"You will use whatever material is available to you. If you fail this, you will be forced to redo do it until you pass. No matter how many times that takes."

The smile the man gave his students could freeze sunflowers.

It was not a nice thing.

The bell rang very conveniently and the students started packing up their stuff. This was the first class of the day, so the torture was hardly over. For Ira, it was just beginning.

Why did his Host have to do choose the Tutorial Mode?

Couldn't she have done the stupid thing and spared him from attending boring classes?

When everybody else had vacated the room, Ira stood up with his sachel over his shoulder and walked down the steps leading up into the higher parts of the classroom. He stopped when he reached his teacher's desk and stared dully at the man for a moment.

He was going to say something. What was it?

Luckily, the man rescued him from blurting out the first thing he thought of. "Bran." the man smiled. "Did you need my help with something?"

"How's my H- Eliza doing?"

The man's eyes became colder then glaciers from just hearing her name. He must really not like her. "She's failing almost all of her classes, Bran."

Ira frowned in thought. "Will she lose her scholarship?"

"No." At that, the man just seemed more furious. "She has one of the rarest affinity's, that of the Light. She can fail all of her classes and still not be expelled. Of course, she is not looked fondly upon, but she _does_ have the capacity for great power. If only she'd pay attention to something _other_ than the Second Prince and actually learn something, that is."

He had really been hoping she would lose her scholarship. It would be a nice, harmless reality check. One that she sorely needed.

Ira was fairly sure the Second Prince was about two words away from murdering his stalker-ish Host.

Obviously, if that came to fruition, Ira wasn't going to be standing in his way, but it'd look better on his report if he tried to prevent the mission from failing. No matter how half-heartedly.

Ira nodded to the teacher. "Then I will be taking my leave before I'm late to my next class."

"Of course, Bran." The teacher smiled, this time a real thing. "Any time you need something, you can always come to me."

What a complete sap.

Turning away from his teacher, Ira left the classroom.

His Host was, according to his internal map, wandering around the boys dorms, it wasn't hard to guess what she was doing there. Ira, very maturely, decided not to bother her. Instead, he made his way to his next class and put her out of his mind.

The day was peaceful.

_So boring._

In fact, every day was peaceful. The sun shone down on the world ceaselessly, as though it was attempting to kill him by way of dehydration, the flowers constantly made him sneeze, poisonous things that they were, and people kept insisting on trying to make conversation with him.

If it didn't involve killing things, he wasn't interested in humans beyond what his mission demanded of him. Why did no-one seem to get that?

Did he need to carry a freaking sign or something?

Ira sighed and turned the page of a book in the library where he was. His Host was sitting just a few tables away from him, thankfully not attempting to get his attention, and was for once studying. She had gotten caught by a teacher earlier trying to enter the boys dorms and been thouroughly lectured. Since then, she had fled to the library in an attempt to get the Second Prince's attention a different way.

At least this way was healthier.

She had decided that if she had the best grades in her class, the Second Prince would pay her attention and fall in love with her. This idea was curteosy of her roommate, a girl that actually took her situation seriously and tried to help his Host because they, for whatever senseless reason, were actually friends.

The taste of some people.

The book Ira was reading had nothing to do with him studying, it was a fiction book meant for teenagers. It was that sappy love at first sight nonsense together with the cliché love triangle. He was reading it solely to make fun of it.

His Host let out a scream, startling the students honestly studying and thumped her head on the table loudly. It wasn't a shock that she was behind, she didn't listen into th lessons, convinced it didn't matter because it wasn't her life. Instead she spent the time daydreaming and making up ludiculous fantasies about the Second Prince. So now she hardly understood a word. She could read and speak the language because that was an advantage all Hosts were afforded, but that didn't mean she knew all the terms and _understood_ them.

Ergo, she was trapped in a vicious cycle of her own making. The first classes of the first year was the most important because they covered the basics and fundamentals. If you didn't know them, then no matter how smart, you simply wouldn't undertsand the later, more difficult material.

Which was what his Host was attempting to make sense of, because she didn't seem to realize how far behind she had already fallen.

Thus, she was getting frustrated with her repeated failures and letting off steam by screaming in a library where silence was the golden rule. Even as Ira watched, the librarian rose from the checkout desk and approached his Host. Her face was stern and her eyes were glaring at his Host where she laid slumped on a table worth more money then she had ever seen.

Ira wondered vaguely how his Host had thought this would all turn out. She had made no serious attemot at studying, was stalking the supposed love interest just making him get creeped out and hadn't even made a single friend aside form her roommate. Ira supposed he should just be glad that she didn't have any followers. Those were always a pain to deal with, jealous, irrational beings that they were.

He put down the book in order to have a clear view of his Host. He had the feeling she was about to make a complete fool of herself.

He couldn't hear what they were saying (he had turned down his hearing in order to not be disturbed when he was reading) but he could see the face of the librarians getting more furious by the second. He only had a view of the back of his Host's head, but he could see as she slumped further down in the chair, trying to hide while arguing back.

That was a faux paus right there. You _never_ argued with a librarian.

He had to smother a delighted giggle.

There went her access to the library.

A particularly vicious jab from the librarian (or so it seemed from where he was sitting) resulted in his Host rushing to her feet in humiliation. It probably had to do with her grades.

Her chair clattered to the floor behind her.

The librarian just looked angrier and pointed at the door.

There was no mistaking that gesture.

His Host had been banned from the school library.

Ira hid his face in his hands and laughed quietly to himself. He just couldn't comtain his amusement. To think his Host would be this ignorant. It was a refreshing change from the usual plain arrogant Hosts, and a whole other kind of entertainment. Oh, he was recording _everything_.

His Host puffed out her cheeks and he could see her profile as she gathered her stuff, still lacking a bag, and stormed out of the library furiously.

She banged the door behind her.

Ira had the feeling she didn't spend a lot of time in libraries in her original world.

Better then a soap opera.

He went back to his book and contiuned where he left off, making fun of the heroine's inability to decide between two handsome men, one the sterotypical bad boy and the other the kind suportive type. Somehow, they always picked the dangerous one in these books. The kind one always lost, despite being much more loyal, much less homicidal and much more loving.

Just a better person in general.

But he supposed teenage girls only thought about looks and rebellion. They were all about the dangerous wibe and adventures. Maybe that was the problem with his Hosts. They were all teenagers. An older Host might work better.

It was worth a try.

 


	13. 2.4

The Second Prince stalked the halls of the school, his back straight with a regal bearing. After him followed the entire Student Council, a gaggle of students that were the very best at their respective fields within the academy. They were only a few days away from the autumn break and preperations were in full swing.

Ira glanced at them as they passed him where he was sitting, reading and ridiculing another cliché love story.

The Second Prince had black hair and a pair of enchanting blue eyes, clearly worthy of his title as the male protagonist. And like most other of his kind, he was unfairly tall, towering above Ira that was the average height. He made a striking couple with Eliza.

Such a shame that that wasn't going to happen.

His Host had, thankfully, given up her illegal stalkering habits (due to a very frightening warning from the Second Prince's personal guards) and decided to put her all into impressing the prince instead. She made a valiant effort to study and learn, although she was still late to most of her classes. The only class she actually came in time for was Magical Theory and that was just because the teacher could be freaking terrifying.

Her effort to gain more friends and be popular again was a total failure, though.

In fact, the more she tried, the more disliked she became.

A few months had already passed since school started. Ira had tried to get average marks in all of his classes, though he was unsure how it was going, and spent most of his time in the library reading.

A library his Host still couldn't enter.

They had done something with the wards around the library and now she physically couldn't enter the building.

Damn hilarious, it was.

Turning another page in his book, he ignored the Second Prince as he struttered past him, looking way too smug for a guy that wasn't actually the Crown Prince. Which reminded him, where the hell was the Crown Prince? He never showed up in the original story, aside from a single line that said his life-long dream was to be a famous scholar. Which Ira just thought was an excuse for his lack of presence. He had probably been assassinated a long time ago and now they were just covering it up.

Or he was an illegitimate child and was hidden for his own safety. Or he was the mastermind planning the take-over of the entire world.

Or Ira had been reading too many stories with cliché plots.

That was probably the most likely.

Rolling his eyes, Ira read the last sentence of the story and felt the vivid urge to vomit. It was so damn cheesy. How could _anyone_ ever stand to read things like this?

 _Ugh_ , he wanted to burn the book to ashes. It was better then it deserved.

Dropping it on the table with a disgusted look on his face, Ira stood up from his chair and wandered off to find another book to amuse himself with. This was what happened when he was in a peaceful world with no TVs or computers for him to spend his time on. He tortured himself with clické books and sappy love-stories.

He dragged his finger over the spines of books on the shelves. Most of the books were bound with leather. Humming to himself, he let his eyes roam all over them in search of something even remotely interesting. When he finally caught sight of a book, it was too high for him to reach. He felt like swearing. Viciously. Just as he was about to go get a chair for him to climb, someone else's hand grabbed the book from behind him.

Ira turned around against the bookshelf and was met with the magical theory teacher. The teacher smiled slightly at him and handed him the book. "Here, Bran. Next time, just ask for help."

"Thank you, professor..." What was the teacher's name again?

The teacher rose a black eyebrow at him. "It's Silas Hawkthorne, Bran. Are you telling me that you still can't remember my name?"

An amused glint appeared in the teacher's eyes and Ira scowled at him. "Or course I can! I was just testing you."

"Testing if I could remember my own name?"

"It's important to know." Ira defended himself, knowing full well he sounded like an utter fool. He scowled harsher and did very much not pout. He. Did. Not.

The teacher, Silas, smothered a laugh unsuccessfully.

Ira snapped out, "Oh, shut up!"

At that, the man just laughed more, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement. Ira had the urge to claw his perfect face off. The man wasn't even the protagonist, yet he was so much taller than Ira. And he still reminded Ira of somebody he just couldn't seem to recall.

It was so damn _frustrating_.

Ira rolled his eyes and looked at the book he was still holding. At least it was the one he was actually reaching for and not some other book. He had seen that happen before. It totally killed the mood.

Not that there _was_ a mood. But, you know, in other situations, with other people, it completely killed it.

Glancing up , he caught sight of Silas' amused face again. "What are you looking at?"

The man just quirked his lips in a parody of an innocent smile. "Oh, nothing. It's just nice, seeing you so animated. You've been so distant lately."

"From you, maybe."

Silas smirked. A totally inapproriate expression to make in front of a student. "Are you staying for autumn break?"

"Yes." Ira answered, feeling apprehensive for some reason.

"Good." Silas said. "Then we'll be spending the break together. I look forwards to your continued company."

After saying that, the man left Ira behind and exited the library. Ira got the savage urge to murder him as painfully as possible. What was with all these people, saying stuff like that straightfaced? Didn't they have any goddamn pride?

It was like they didn't know that they sounded like utter idiots.

Ira rolled his eyes again and wandered over to the chair he had just vacated. He threw himself down on it with an utter lack of decorum and just smiled when the other students (who were actually studying) glared at him. Ira, unlike his Host, wasn't an idiot. He had made sure that he was on friendly terms with the librarian, who luckily shared his particular brand of humor.

They had tea together every Sunday.

Shrugging off the looks he was being given by his supposed peers, Ira went right back to reading. And promptly felt like murdering someone again.

He _really_ didn't understand humans.

Autumn break began on a Sunday and would last the entire week. It was an opportunity for students to visit their family, attend balls and social gatherings and get a release from the heavy workload. Or, in his Host's case, it was a chance to catch up with the other students.

Ira, on the other hand, spent the first day of the break locked away in his room, trying to make heads and tails of a new book he had picked up. He was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be horror, but it very much seemed like it. Not to mention that the spelling of the main characters name abruptly changed in the middle of the story. And at the beginning, it was set in a fantasy world, not at the end, it apparently took place in this world's modern world.

To be honest, Ira was mostly just confused.

He felt embarrassed for the poor guy that had published this crap, but, still, confusion was the most prominent.

He decided to distract himself by looking over his Host. He would be automatically notified if she died, but it was common sense to check in once in a while. And it had been a couple of days since he last checked. She could be paralyzed and he wouldn't know.

When his inner eye honed in on his Host, he saw her in a gazebo on the school grounds. She was surrounded by books and in the company of her roommate. Her face was scrunched up with confusion and frustration, her eyes saying she was on the verge of giving up. Ira didn't really feel a thing for her, despite the fact that she made quite the pitiful image.

You know, aside from glee.

As Ira watched, the Second Prince entered the gazebo, a heavy frown on his face and a hard look in his eyes. However, the second he caught sight of Ira's Host, the man stopped walking over for some reason. Rather, he stood stock still with a stunned look on his face. Ira glanced around and saw what had caught the man's attention.

It was his Host, sitting on the ground looking absolutely miserable.

_Seriously?!_

Ira felt the urge to just throw his hands up in the air and give up on humanity as a whole, idiotic species that they were.

The Second Prince collected himself and approached his Host.

Ira was judging him the whole way over.

"Is there a problem?" the Second Prince asked, looking all prince-ly while doing so.

His Host looked up and stared at the Second Prince, completely stunned that the man was even speaking to her. Ira was even more shocked. "N-no, my lord. We're just studying."

Well, at least she could learn from her mistakes, right?

Ira wished a meteorite would hit her.

Maybe take him out too, while it was at it.

It would be the kind thing to do.

The Second Prince glanced at the textbooks surrounding her and nodded his head. "I can see that. You appear to be doing better in your classes lately."

His Host beamed. "I am! I'm doing really good!"

Nodding (again), the prince commented, "That's good. It's always pleasant to see commoners taking their chance to better themselves seriously."

Immediately, his Host's face closed off and now it was her turn to look coldly at the prince. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

The prince narrowed his eyes. "The truth. It is a wonderful opportunity you have been given. Not taking advantage of it is foolish."

So he wasn't a complete idiot then? Good to know.

Ira still felt like stabbing him.

His Host glared at the prince, forgetting her manners yet again. "Just because I'm a commoner doesn't mean I'm _less_ than you."

The prince did the smart thing and neglected to respond.

His Host let out a  _hmph_  and stood to her feet. Gathering all of her stuff, she grabbed a hold of her roommate and dragged her off with a mean look in her eyes. Ira could practically see her thoughts. She'd been insulted because of her station and now she thought that the prince was prejudiced. 

Again, she was neglecting to remember the fact that she was in a time where nobles still ruled the world.

Ira zoomed out and stopped paying her any attention. Instead, he threw the book he had been reading under the bed and pretended that he had never seen it. It was a library book, so he couldn't burn it, but he could pretend it didn't exist. The library would get it back. Eventually.

Probably.

In his mind, he could see as his Host fervently complained to her roommate and how uncomfortable it made her. He almost felt sorry for her.

But as long as his Host wasn't complaining to _him_ , it was all okay.

He grabbed another book of his shelf, one that was at least tolerable, it still way to dramatic, and settled down on his bed together with it. All of the lights but hid bedside lamp were turned off, the curtains were drawn over the window and not a sound could be heard. It was the perfect ending to an ordinary day.

Turning to the first page, a page he had already read, Ira snuggled deeper into the covers and sighed in pleasure. His eyes shone in anticipation and his smile was actually an honest thing for once.

 _This_ was what made all of it worth it.

He fell asleep reading.

 


	14. 2.5

Autumn break was a refreshing change of pace.

Ira spent the first few days holed up in his room, only leaving in order to eat or pick up a new book in the library. During this period, he checked in on his Host every other day to make sure she hadn't been in a fatal accident or something.

Because that would just be absolutely _terrible_. How would he ever be able to live with himself?

On the friday, the last day of autumn break that wasn't also the weekend, Ira left his  room to go to the library as always. He was dressed in normal clothes because he couldn't be bothered to change and there were no classes he had to go to. He locked the door behind him as he left, ignored the growling of his stomach that said he was hungry and started walking with a bag full of books hanging on his shoulder. These were the books he would return.

He crossed over the school grounds, that despite the fact that it was fall, were still unnecessarily cheery. He grimaced when he walked past a fountain with a statue of a naked man peeing in it. He didn't understand why anyone would ever consider that beautiful.

It was a naked man peeing. Moreover, on more than one occasion, he had seen other students peeing in the fountain while he mentally searched for his Host.

And to think some people actually drank that water. Utter idiots, all of them.

The library was a large building, a full three floors high, and was filled with that nostalgic smell of old books. It was a shame that this world didn't have manga, and so Ira was forced to contend himself with these books. At least it was fun ridiculing them, although sometimes it could be _very_ frustrating, to come across a book that made literally no sense at all.

Most of the people had left for the break so the library was almost empty to an eerie degree. It was completely quiet, and the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and the candles on the wall could only do so much.

It was like Ira had stepped into his own room.

He stepped up the counter and greeted the librarian, engaging in the necessary smalltalk to maintain a simile of a friendship.

Once his bag was empty of all of the books he had been carting around, Ira waved goodbye to the kind librarian and made his way further into the library. He had kept to the first floor but now that he had made his way through all of the books on it (he could read very fast) he approached the stairway that lead to the next floor.

It was a grand staircase, made of stone.

Ira had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the ridiculous level of extravagance that the whole school showcased like it was deliberately trying to shove the fact that it was goddamn rich into his face.

He didn't succeed.

He wandered off into the deep reaches of the second floor of the library and let his eyes take in everything. The high bookcases that reached high into the ceiling, the large wooden tables that were shoved in between the shelves and the couches that appeared here and there. There was a quiet now that he was sure spoke of bad things to come and Ira found himself looking forwards to it. He was the sort of person that embraced chaos.

Or, you know, pushed someone else into its unrelenting grasp.

Whichever worked best.

As he browsed through the available books, he heard the sound of people whispering. Curious, he walked deeper into the corner and glanced around it. He felt like he was in a spy movie.

He could look at them with no risk to himself in his mind, but where was the fun in that?

Around the corner, looking furious, was his magical theory teacher, Silas something. He was arguing with a man that Ira had never seen before in his life. 

He sharpened his hearing and listened in closer.

The man he didn't know growled, "Don't think that things will always follow your tune! The Second Prince's support is strengthening every day. One day soon, he will sit on the throne and be your King!"

Silas gave a derisive laugh. "King? That brat? I'd be a miracle if he lasted a year on the throne, ignorant as he is. Do you know what his problem is? He cares too much. When he falls in love, he gives up everything for them. Including the throne. If he becomes king, he won't be ruling the country. His Queen will."

"And you think you can do a better job?"

To that, Silas offered no response.

The man gave a furious roar and punched a table, splitting it in half. He left Silas behind as he stalked off, utterly enraged. Silas stared after him with an amused smirk.

Silas tilted his head in Ira's direction. "So, Bran. How long are you going to stand there?"

 _Ah_. He forgot to hide his presence. He wasn't used to spying on people in a human body. It was an understandable mistake.

Ira stepped out from his hiding place and faced his teacher. There was no worry that the man would kill him, he would just jump into another body if he did. Nor was there any worry that the man would try to silence him. Ira sat his collection of books that he had gathered in his bag on the table that wasn't destroyed and stared at his teacher.

He had no idea what he was supposed to say.

Apologize for eavesdropping? But he didn't feel sorry at all.

After staring at him for a long moment, Silas sighed and his eyes softened. "What am I supposed to do with you?"

Ira narrowed his eyes and wondered what that meant. Was he going to kill him? Hopefully it would be fast, Ira wasn't a fan of pain.

"I'm not going to kill you, Bran." the man seemed to read his thoughts as he continued with, "You need to be more careful. You can't go around putting yourself in danger like this. If it was anybody else, you would be dead already."

Ira rose an eyebrow. "I wasn't in any danger."

At that, Silas looked stunned. Ira didn't understand why, obviously he wasn't in danger. Death wasn't a problem for a being like him. At most, it was an inconvenience. And if it was too painful, he could always turn off his ability to feel pain.

Really, there was no reason to look so surprised.

Silas smiled and said. "I am glad that you trust me, but you really should take better care of yourself."

When had Ira ever mentioned trust?

Ira rolled his eyes. "It's none of your business."

Silas crossed the distance between them and put his hand on Ira's shoulder. "Don't mention what you heard to anyone, please?"

"Of course not." Why would Ira tell anyone? There was no entertainment in that.

The man's hand squeezed Ira's shoulder tighter and Silas smirked at Ira's confused face. "Good." he said and let go. To Ira's continued confusion, his hand lingered a little by Ira's hair.

Ira shrugged and removed himself from a weird situation by grabbing his bag and walking away. Why were humans always so damn weird?

He heard a laugh behind him as he left, but he didn't bother to look. He didn't wish to encourage any strange behavior. 

Later that day, he was sitting on a bench outside, as he had gotten waylaid by his Host the moment he left the library. And he was just beginning to hope she had forgotten he even existed. Instead, he was sitting right next to her.

Talk about a crushing disappointment.

"Well?" he snapped at her impatiently.

Eliza swallowed nervously and stared down at her hands. "The prince isn't in love with me. According to the plot, he should already love me, right? So why doesn't he? I don't understand."

Ira stared at her, stunned. "Have you ever had a conversation with him where neither of you insulted the other?"

She didn't respond, just looked at her lap. 

"Exactly how do you think love works?" asked Ira, horrified.

"It just happens."

Ira's eyes widened to an almost painful degree. _It just happens_ was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. He stared at her, trying to think of some way to respond, but truly, how could you answer that? he shook his head and let his eyes drift to the bright blue sky. Sighing, he wondered if this was what work meant now.

"Just tell me what you want." Ira told his Host without sympathy.

She nodded and looked up at him. "Tell me how to make the Second Prince fall in love with me."

How was supposed to answer that?

Ira glanced around, uncomfortable. "There are a ton of love stories in the library. Read them and do research. The answer is there."

On what not to do.

She frowned. "But I can't enter the library."

Ira smirked. "You should have thought of that before you pissed of Mrs March."

"Who?"

"The librarian. Just... I can't magically make someone fall in love with you. You'll have to figure it out on your own." Ira said tiredly and stood up to leave.

She stood up as well. "But you're my system. Aren't you suppose to help me?"

"Helping you and doing all your work for you are two different things."

He left her behind, troubled and deep in thought, in order to finally make his way back to his room. Unfortunately, as he was walking, his stomach grumbled, reminding him once again, that he hadn't eaten yet. It was such a pain, having to keep up with regular — three times a day — feedings. 

He carted his new books with him to the cafeteria.

The food at this school was of surprisingly high quality, something he always made sure to tell the chefs. He could see the way they beamed at when he said his rightfully earned praise, which made him feel curiously proud of himself. He was totally mastering this whole being social thing.

He grabbed a tray and filled it with food. Along the way, he picked up something to drink and then he made his way between the many tables that littered the huge space. 

The entire school was unrepentantly fancy.

Ira sat himself down at his table and started eating without any consideration for the person already sitting there. He found that he was starving, he had apparently denied this body the food it needed for too long, and so he had no idea of who he had disturbed. Still, he ate the food with elegance and class, because he wasn't a barbarian. 

Once he was finished, he pushed the tray away from him and grabbed a book from his bag. He opened it and started reading from the very start. Hopefully, it wouldn't make him want to burn it.

For several minutes, he was completely entranced in it.

Then a very rude person laughed and brought him out from his exile. 

Ira narrowed his and was on the edge of cursing when he looked up to see who the rude person was. But the words got caught in his throat when he met the blue eyes of his magical theory teacher, the leech that he was. 

He snapped out, "What?"

Silas just laughed more. "You know, you're very beautiful when you get caught up in reading."

"And you're delusional, so what?"

The man gathered his things and stood up. Smiling, he looked down at Ira. "One day, Bran, you're going to marry me."

Ira furrowed his brow in confusion as the man left, waving at the chefs. What was that supposed to mean? Ira wasn't going to ever marry _anyone_ , because he was a system and one scheming man wasn't going to change it. He reminded him of that demon protagonist from his last mission that didn't know how to let things go.

Hmm, now that he thought about it, didn't that man say something about being together forever? Or was he remembering things wrong?

Well, whatever. 

It was none of his business.

 


	15. 2.6

School started again like the unending torment that it was.

Ira stared out over the rest of the classroom while he waited for the teacher to appear. Unfortunately, he was now trapped in Politics after the end of the magical theory class and he was _not happy_. In fact, describing him as _not happy_ , wasn't enough. He was pissed.

The day had started out normally, now that he had finally managed to make some sort of schedule of this sappy world. He woke up, took a bath, got dressed and went to eat breakfast. At breakfast, Silas sat at his table and he was forced to share, because he wasn't going to move just because the man was feeling manipulative. After a meal, during which he was stared at the whole time, it was time for the first class in a week.

As it was a Monday, that was Magical Theory.

Ira sat where he always sat — no matter which class it was — in the middle of the room. He settled in amongst the earliest of the students and read a book he had learned to always bring with him in order to pass the time until class started.

That wasn't the bad part.

His Host was, once again, late.

Apparently, a week of break was all the time she needed to completely lose her recently gained accomplishment of waking up on time. As such, she missed breakfast and it was half-way through the lesson by the time she finally arrived. At least this time, she didn't get lost. Baby steps, he supposed.

As she was late, the door was locked. 

Ira, and the rest of the class, got to watch as she ran around on the outside of the building until she reached the classroom's windows, whereupon she tried each and every one of them. All of them were locked.

When Ira directed his gaze to Silas, the man had a look of satisfaction in his eyes.

Ira could understand the feeling.

After figuring out that she couldn't get in, she squeezed as close as she could to the window with the best view and tried to copy down the notes on the board. Ira had to admit that it was a smart move. It was also utterly hilarious to watch.

The rest of the class passed with his Host outside, making an absolute fool of herself. Silas didn't spare her a glance, which was somehow worse than if he had deliberately mocked her.

As the class ended, Ira was once more the last one to exit the room. The magical theory teacher had settled down at his desk by then but Ira could still feel the way he was being stared at. He chose to do the mature thing and pretend it wasn't happening. It wasn't like he actually understood what it was all about, anyway.

In the middle of the hallway, as he made a valiant attempt to get to his next class, he was interrupted by his Host. The girl had grabbed a hold of him as he attempted to pass her while ignoring her very existence.

"System!" she hissed at him and demanded, "Tell me who in the class has the best notes."

Obviously, that was him. "Silvia Blackstone."

She nodded at him and ran away without even bothering to say so much as a thank you. He observed through his mind as she ran around asking until she managed to find the woman who had had the unfortunate luck to be sacrificed. Maybe he should send her a gift basket? That seemed to be something a lot of characters did in the books in this world.

This was not, to be clear, what he was pissed off about. If anything, he was amused by it. Viciously.

But after leaving behind his Host and once again on the move, he bumped right into the male protagonist. 

_So. Damn. Embarrassing._

It was like something out of a rom-com. 

Fortunately, Ira had very good balance, a skill he could always have activated, because clumsy people were more noteworthy. So he didn't fall. Nor did he drop anything, because he had all of his books in a bag like a sane person.

The Second Prince, on the other hand, wasn't as lucky.

They bumped into each other right around a corner so the angle and momentum made the the prince fall right on his back. Now, Ira wasn't like his Host, and so he apologized as was expected.

"My apologies, Your Highness."

When he attempted to give the prince a hand to help pull him up, the prince glared at him and hissed out in a low tone, "Don't touch me, traitor!"

Ira had honestly no clue what that was about.

The man then stood up on his own and walked around Ira like he was air. Again, it didn't piss him off. Ira wasn't quite such a petty person. No it was the part where the Second Prince looked back and called out, "Just because you seduced my brother doesn't mean you're special."

What brother?

Regardless of who, the very idea that he had purposefully seduced someone was laughable. Ira could admit that he didn't know nearly enough of human customs and social niceties to seduce someone. Undoubtedly, it would end with him offending them and getting hit in the face.

At which point he would promptly kick them in the crotch.

But the point was, he was honestly kind of grossed out by the idea of seducing _anyone_ , not just the prince's brother. And so now he was in Politics, pissed off and ignoring his teacher as they endeavored to explain something completely irrelevant.

Ira felt like murdering someone. Preferably somebody he didn't like. 

Like that damn tall male lead that was rude and accused him of something without basis. Not that that actually bothered him, but it was the principle of the thing. He couldn't walk around as a doormat, then everyone would try to walk all over him. Just because he was working, it didn't mean that he needed to be treated like dirt to. He already was by his Hosts.

Finally, the class ended.

Ira gathered up his things and stood together with the rest of his class. If he stayed behind to leave last like he normally did, he had the feeling he would snap and go on a killing spree. His pay would _so_ be cut if he did that.

Worst case scenario, right there.

He left the classroom in a sucky mood, already annoyed enough that he had another class after that. In his mind, he could see as his Host did her best to get to her next class on time, though this time it wasn't her fault she would be late. She was currently in the middle of an argument with a gang of noble girls that looked like it was two steps away from getting physical.

Ira zoomed in so he could record it in the best possible angle.

If he was ever fired, he could get a job as a professional photographer. 

He would be a hit.

Ira observed as his Host was torn viciously to pieces with just words, as the girls surrounding her told her quite honestly what a creep she was being concerning the Second Prince. Ira was just glad that someone had told her that. Granted, she had mellowed out recently, and was doing better in classes, but she still spent way too much of her time following him around and starting at him. At least she no longer tried to gain access to his dorms. That would land her in prison for attempted assassination, no matter how rare or powerful her magic was.

She would probably be tortured too.

When his Host's stack of books (that she still didn't carry in a bag) was knocked down to the floor, she lost her composure and snapped out, "Just because you're nobles you think you can treat people like this?!"

The girls around her stopped for a moment and seemed to communicate with their eyes. "You are the one that is obsessed with the Second Prince. You have no room to talk. We are doing what needs to be done. You being a commoner has nothing to do with it."

Ira could see, from the stubborn look on her face, that she didn't believe it. She was from a far more modern time, where nobility didn't matter unless you were actually royalty, and even then, people were pretty blasé about it. So to her, the girls were deliberately mocking her and bothering her because she wasn't nobility. And her modern ideals were offended by the very thought that they weren't regarded as equals.

Yeah, Ira was already in the process of requesting a new Host. Preferably someone older that had been hit with the cruel reality that was adulthood and thus didn't have so many childish ideas.

Seeing that nothing more interesting was about to happen any time soon, Ira zoomed out and zoned back into the current situation. He had already reached his class and was in the beginning process of copying down the notes on the board. Multitasking was easy.

Classes ended without fanfare.

Ira used his mental map to make sure he wasn't about to bump into anyone important to the plot — and thus mess it up — as he made his way back to his dorm. 

It was lucky that he did, because when he watched, he saw that his Host was in the close vicinity of the Second Prince. Much closer than she had been ever since she was unintentionally insulted by him.

After barely a thought, he changed direction. It wouldn't hurt to see it for himself.

Besides, everything his Host did was being recorded automatically. He kind of wanted to see if she could notice him nearby.

Ira reached the place they were standing in and hid behind a corner.

They were standing alone in a pretty secluded place of the grounds, where hardly anyone ever went. And as Ira watched his Host did something he hadn't expected.

She said, clearly and without stuttering, to the prince. "I like you. Go out with me?"

Ira's eyes widened and he stared closer at them, adjusting his sight until he could see them clearly from up close, despite the fact that he hadn't moved. He wasn't sure if that was a smart move or an idiotic one. If there was one thing he didn't get, it was love.

And everything that had to do with it.

The Second Prince didn't make a move. Just when Ira thought he was about to respond positively, the man took a step back from his Host and a look displeasure was on his face. "I have a fiancé. I'm not going to cheat on her."

Ira's impression of the male protagonist just jumped up way higher. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was cheating.

"But it's just an arranged marriage right? It's not as if you actually like her." his Host did apparently not know when to quit.

The prince stepped back further. "I want to be king one day. In order for that to happen, I need her family's support. Now don't ever talk about this again or I'll have you kicked out of the academy."

While his Host looked confused, the prince took the opportunity to walk away. He didn't look back.

Ira watched as his Host furrowed her brow's in confusion. She was from a time when arranged marriages were considered almost barbaric. The importance the people in this world placed on them, she just couldn't understand. Which led to her saying stupid things like that.

His Host whispered to herself, "But he doesn't even like her. Why would he stay with her? If he doesn't leave her to be with me, I'll fail the mission."

She continued, "And I'm a catch. I'm beautiful, smart and kind. And I'm far better then these archaic women with their old values."

"Why doesn't he like me?"

Having seen enough, Ira carefully extracted himself from his hiding place and decided that his stomach was making enough noise. He started walking in the direction of the cafeteria, uncaring about the pathetic picture he left behind.

Focused as he was, he didn't notice the man that had been staring at him for a while now.

Nor did he notice the expression of determination on his Host's face.


	16. 2.7

Despite the fact that winter had finally set in, there was no snow on the ground. There was some frost covering the grass and leaves, but no actual snow. Ira couldn't tell if he was disappointed or not.

On the one hand, snow was beautiful. On the other hand, it was cold.

But blood stained on it so prettily...

Regardless, Ira spent even less time outside, if such a thing was possible.

As they had finally started coming somewhere in their studies, the amount of homework they had had doubled and if Ira had actually been trying to get good grades, he would have been panicking the way everyone else was. Not only was this the only magic academy in the nation, it was also the toughest school available. The demands they pushed upon their students were almost insane. And it only got worse the more time passed.

There was a reason the people that graduated were alway deliriously happy.

And it wasn't because they were eager to be adults.

His Host had found herself completely swamped in her work, to such an extent that she had no time to harass the male lead, not to mention make him fall in love with her. And then there was the part of the mission she seemed to have forgotten about.

She was supposed to fall in with the Second Prince.

The Second Prince might be the stereotypical male protagonist (as was often the case in love stories) but he was no fool. He wouldn't marry somebody that didn't love him if there was no advantage to it. And his Host was a commoner that only had her rare powerful magic going for her. No noble would ever pursue a marriage like that unless there were actual mutual feelings involved.

Or a baby.

Whatever the case, fact was that his Host didn't love the prince. She was attracted to him yes, maybe even obsessed with him, but not in love with him.

With winter came one of the two big events that were talked about in social gatherings. The Winter Ball.

The Winter Ball was exactly what it sounded like. It was a ball in winter, the night of the new year, and it was typically a matter of pride if you attended or not. It was the perfect place to make connections, get to know your intended or observe people for scandals and blackmail. It was the one event that you couldn't miss.

Of course, the Summer Ball was a big deal as well, but winter was seen as more magical and thus the Winter Ball won in a battle between the two.

Another thing that often happened during the Ball was that people started courting others. Both men and women could start courting anyone they liked at the Ball, as long as neither of them were promised to marry or already married. 

Thus, only a fool would miss it.

Unfortunately, this body's family weren't made of fools.

He had already gotten a grand total of thirteen letters to remind him that he _had to_ attend the Ball and that he would be engaged to that disgusting old man that had a really inappropriate crush on Bran if he didn't go. Bran's mother had sent him a whole new outfit, along with a pair of high-heeled boots to make him seem taller, as well as a black fedora with a teal band around it. He had a black tailcoat, a vest and a teal tie.

And then there was the mask.

Bran was average and he came from a completely average family, especially among nobles. He had no amazing ancestry, no famous cousin, nothing to give him an in with anyone. His family wasn't very wealthy, they had no hugely successful business and owned no large swathes of land. And it showed in his marriage prospects.

Despite his age, he wasn't engaged.

So his mother was using the Ball as an opportunity to reel someone in.

The mask was a big part of, as it would give him an air of mystery and distract people from the fact that his face was completely plain.

The mask was white, with silver patterns on it. It covered both his eyes and on the left side of it hung three diamond stones. Apparently it was a family heirloom and what his father had used to capture his mother's attention back in the day.

Thankfully, it had no feathers.

If it had, Ira would have been gone a long time ago. He would have even married that disgusting old fool if he had to. He could always murder the man if he got too troublesome.

But the feathers on a mask were ridiculously expensive and his family couldn't afford it. Not to mention the costs it too to maintain the feathers pristine condition. If they fell off, there would always be a mark left behind that no new feathers could fix.

That wasn't the worst of it.

His mother had sent him a pair of huge, hanging silver earrings.

From them dangled a pair of gorgeous diamonds and Ira was really starting to wonder if he shouldn't ditch this body and find a new one. It seemed like he wasn't going to be very average once the Winter Ball arrived.

Then he sneaked peaks at what the others were going to wear to the Ball and he realized what he had been sent was actually pretty tame.

There were dresses in bright gold or silver, there were hats with huge feathers, there were necklaces with gems so big they could double as mirrors and there were footwear with even higher heels then his. For men. And then there were the tiaras that some would be wearing, the bracelets, the rings and the fancy shoes decorated with gems as well. It was ridiculous.

And hilarious.

Ira felt like he would be watching an historical drama with front-row seats.

Staring at the clothes hanging in his closet, untouched but for when he had first put them in, Ira felt the urge to sigh. 

The mission hadn't progressed at all.

In fact, if anything, it had gone backwards.

The prince now actively avoided his Host. Before he had tried to stay out of her way, but now he straight out turned around and walked in a different direction if he caught sight of her. His Host was doing worse and worse in her studies and was even being bullied due to her crude attitude when dealing with her noble classmates. She had no time to run after the Second Prince, which meant that she had no chance to change his opinion of her.

And then there was the Second Prince's fiancée. 

She was a beautiful woman, certainly fit to be a queen. But she was also jealous of his Host, as was par for the course. She showed this by being the leading bully, in the name of protecting the prince from his Host's evil wiles.

In the original story, she would have been the rival, the obstacle to overcome, the catalyst to make the Second Prince and Eliza realize exactly how much they loved each other. 

But the prince was still horrified by the suggestion that he should abandon his fiancée for a girl he didn't even like (or know) and so he didn't notice it at all. The bullying didn't serve the purpose it would originally have and it didn't look like the fiancée was going to end up banished from the nation and relocated to a temple.

At this point, the plot had completely derailed.

All that was left to do was attempt to salvage it the best they could.

In the name of all the manga he would buy once the mission was over (he was experiencing a severe case of withdrawal) Ira did his actual job. He sent his Host an outfit to wear to the Ball, a tasteful pale pink dress, a lovely white mask and a pair of gloves as well as shoes. He even sent a pair of small earrings and a thin golden necklace.

The Winter Ball was the perfect opportunity for his Host to show whatever good side she had to the Second Prince and gain his positive attention. At this point in the original story, Eliza and the prince were already in love with each other.

He just hoped that his Host would see the chance for what it was and not screw it up. If she failed at the Ball, the mission would be practically impossible to complete, although it wouldn't be judged failed until his Host either died or the Second Prince married someone else.

Which could take years.

Ira shook his head and resolved not to worry about it. He had done his duty and now it was out of his hands. Instead, he dragged on his uniform and left his room to find the cafeteria for breakfast. Fridays were always the most relaxing days, as there was no school the day after, and he absolutely loved it. 

He went through the motions of school, let the classes drone on without bothering to do more than the bare minimum to be average in all of his grades and ignored anyone that attempted to speak with him.

Or he glared at them until they went away.

It was after the last class of the day that Ira witnessed a troublesome scene. Not in person as he was already back in his room, but he could see in his mind how his Host argued with the Second Prince's fiancée. The funny thing was that she didn't even who the woman was, she arguing with her just because she didn't like her. Which, to be fair, she had reason not to, what with the bullying, but she was actually being cruel.

To put it simply, she was being Out Of Character.

Eliza would never, no matter what was done or said to her, deliberately hurt someone. It was a quality that the Second Prince adored about her.

It was also a quality his Host apparently didn't have.

Ira watched as his Host screamed, "...everybody knows that you're a useless waste of space that's only good to look pretty!"

His Host was promptly slapped by the prince's fiancée.

The fiancée had seemingly reached her line, for she hissed out between clenched teeth, "Don't think that His Highness would ever look at you appreciately, with a heart as black as yours. I might not be the most useful person, but at least I have dignity."

"I was born with far more dignity than you could ever have!" his Host retorted stubbornly. "I was the most popular person in my home, everybody loved me!"

The fiancée narrowed her eyes. "A commoner's popularity is nothing to nobility. We just work on a different level."

His Host seemed to have been severely insulted by that remark and showed it by taking out a bottle of water from the bag she had finally taken to wearing, and dumping the whole thing over the fiancée's head. She smiled, pleased with herself and left the fiancée behind with a jaunty wave.

Yeah, his Host wouldn't be winning any popularity contests again.

Ira smiled to himself and settled on his bed to lean against it. Just as he was about to start reading a book he had only recently borrowed and not yet gotten to, a knock on the door disturbed his peace. He frowned and reluctantly got up to answer it, knowing from experience that a smart person would see the light under his door, realize he was present and not stop knocking until he opened the door.

He pulled it open with a curse already on his tongue.

What met his sight was the picture of a nervous looking girl. She was his Host's roommate.

Ira frowned even deeper.

"What do you want?"

She seemed to shrink into herself. "I-I have a message from pro-professor Hawkthorne. Uhm, the Winter Ball..."

When she didn't continue, Ira leaned against the wall and nodded at her to keep going. She swallowed deeply and said, "You-you can't go the ball with Eliza!"

"Huh?"

She twisted her fingers and stared down at the floor. "I-I mean, the professor said that you're forbidden to take anyone (especially Eliza) to the Ball. You have to go by yourself, or y-you won't get in. The-the faculty has already a-approved of it."

"There's nothing to worry about," Ira began. "I won't be taking anyone to the Ball. I'm only going there to find a spouse."

"Oh-oh." the girl said and blinked, looking confused. "I-I will let the professor know. Sorry for in-intruding."

She left after saying that and Ira was left staring after her, utterly confused. 

What was all that about?

 


	17. 2.8

The day of the Winter Ball approached with alarming velocity. Ira, unlike the rest of the students, didn't worry about it.

He spent his days the way he always had and time flew by.

Eventually, the anticipated day arrived.

With the new year, they had been given a whole week off from school again. The Winter Ball took  place on a Friday this year, as it changed every year depending on which day the new year fell on. 

The morning of the Friday when everything would be going down, Ira slept in. He hadn't been dreaming, but the feeling of being able to relax and not concentrate on annoying things were a blessing in itself. Among the thoughts that often plagued his mind was the mess that his Host was making of the mission. He really didn't want to be blamed for her mistakes.

Thankfully, he was actually a really respected system (though he had no idea why) and as such wouldn't be.

But still, it was nice not to think about it.

So, by the time Ira woke up, breakfast had already ended.

Ira stretched out his back where he stood in his pajamas, twitching his feet in his fluffy sandals. His gaze drifted to the clock above his door, that said it was barely an hour until lunch would open. Certainly enough time that he wouldn't starve. 

In his mind, he could see his Host panicking about everything, from every little detail to all of the bigger things. She was having her roommate help her with her makeup and was already on the third version of it. Ira didn't understand what the problem was but, then again, he had never been able to understand women, much less humans, to begin with.

Relaxed as he was, he didn't hurry. Instead, he spent the morning in the bath until the water got cold, and then he just turned off his ability to feel it and stayed in anyway. By the time he emerged, his skin was wrinkly and it was time for lunch.

Despite the fact that it was in the middle of the day and everyone was awake, the cafeteria was practically deserted. People were spending all the time they had on making themselves look pretty or handsome, using magic to enhance their looks or getting into complicated outfits. His Host was now in the process of trying to use magic to pretty herself up. Ira wasn't really if that was an improvement or not. At least she was getting practice.

But it wasn't really going that well.

After lunch, Ira didn't return to the library, as it was closed due to the Ball, but instead went back to his room. Which was just as well, he didn't want to have to deal with insecure, nervous humans.

They were like walking minefields.

The day before, another letter had arrived from Bran's mother, along with a pair of silver cufflinks that he _absolutely had to_ _wear_. 

There were a lot of threats.

Several hours passed while Ira was reading on his bed before dinner finally arrived, after which it was only an hour or two until the Winter Ball would officially begin.

Dinner was uneventful.

There were a lot of nervous, panicking people eating with pained faces.

When the time of the Ball finally approached, Ira put down his book and stood to take his outfit out of the closet. All parts of it.

He spread it out on the bed and started dressing.

He finished just a few minutes before the Ball was set to begin. Ira didn't bother to hurry up, but carefully put on the earrings to make sure he didn't tear anything, dragged on the mask and, lastly, put the fedora on top his head.

Once he had deemed himself ready after giving a glance to the mirror and straightening out his clothes a little, he left his room.

At the farthest of the school grounds, away from all the other building, was a large dome-like structure. It was in this building where the Winter Ball would take place.

Ira walked along the path that was hidden skillfully behind a series of bushes to make his way to the event. He was already several minutes late, but he saw no reason for that to be a big deal. Unlike his Host who was, for once, late on purpose. She wanted to make a big entrance, get everyone's attention — and the prince's — from the moment she stepped in and the easiest way to do that would be to be fashionably late while looking gorgeous.

There were no guards at the doors or anyone to call out your name, but there was that cliché descending staircase inside. Ira didn't bother to stand still and wait for anyone to notice him, he just stepped right down it.

A hush fell over the crowd below him.

If Ira had been a narcissistic or arrogant person, his first thought might have been that the silence and the attention was for him. As it was, he was a perfectly agreeable character and believed no such thing. 

His map showed the dot representing his Host right behind him.

Ira didn't look behind himself. He continued his way down the stairs at an unhurried pace while everyone's eyes remained glued to the top of staircase. Either his Host had succeeded in her self-given mission and she looked beautiful, or she had gone way off course and looked like something out of a horror movie. One or the other. He really hoped it was the other.

That would be hilarious. 

Award-winning.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Ira finally gave in to his curiosity and turned around. He wanted to see it with his own — technically not — eyes.

His Host looked stunning.

_What a complete let-down._

She stood at the top of the grand marble staircase, her hair like a halo around her face, her eyes glittering like jewels in the light. The dress brought out all of her curves without offending the sensibility of this world and the color made her look like a princess. Around her neck, a shining gem laid hanging from a silver thread. Gazing up at her, Ira felt the vivid urge to murder her.

Ira turned away from her when she finally started descending the staircase, and it was like flowers were coming into being around her. That was very clearly magic, and sloppy at that. She was lucky most people wouldn't care because of the occasion, but if she did it anytime else, she might legitimately get killed from the outcry.

And there wasn't supposed to be any threat of death in this world.

Trust his Host to mess things up.

When his Host reached the bottom of the stairs, the sound returned and it was like people suddenly remembered they had the ability to speak. The women hit their dates to get back their attention and looked on with jealousy directed towards his Host while the men couldn't keep their eyes off of her. It seemed she had succeeded in making herself stand out. If things went well and she used whatever shred of charm that she had, she might actually be able to get the mission back on track.

He let his eyes slide over her and away, searching for some quiet corner to hide in until this whole thing was over with. It wasn't that he was afraid of Bran's mother, but he _had_ replaced her son and he supposed that merited _some_ compensation. 

So despite the fact that he really hadn't wanted to come (he could just as easily supervise his Host from far, far away) Ira now had to find some place to lay low. 

The large open hall wasn't exactly crowded, it was far too big for that, but there was certainly a lot of people scattered about, girls with elaborate puffy dresses and men with suits and masks. There were also those that chose to attend without any mask, those that were so sure of their looks that they felt it wasn't necessary. The Second Prince was one of those people.

His Host wasn't.

She wore a plain white mask that covered her eyes, with no gems or patterns, just white. It somehow just made her look more pure.

Which Ira supposed was a good thing.

She was already dancing with some masked gentleman.

Ira ignored the buzzing sound that was all around him and walked between the various people that stood between him and a dark, shady corner. Just as he was about to cross the last barrier, a hand grabbed his wrist tightly and spun him around.

He was met with man with a black mask over the top of his face, and no silly hat. The man smiled at him, seemingly pleased that he managed to get a hold of him and Ira frowned.

"What do you want, Silas?"

What? Was he not supposed to know who that was? Even if he didn't have the capability to recognize souls (those he had interest in, and bothered to remember, that was) there was still no mistaking those eyes.

Silas smirked at him, looking infuriatingly happy. "Really, Bran? You just arrived and already you're looking to go hiding in a corner. And I was under the impression you came to find a spouse."

Why did he sound pleased? Ira narrowed his eyes. "I'm very much aware that I have a limited selection and my H-Eliza just grabbed everyone's attention. There's no use looking now."

The man got a dark glint in his eyes as he dragged Ira around and started moving in what was apparently a dance. Ira didn't bother to protest the movement. Silas bit out, "What has she got to do with you finding a spouse?"

Ira rose an eyebrow and let Silas lead. "I'm average. My family has no great wealth to speak of, nor are we based in a good location or have some great lands. There's nothing about me that would make anyone want to marry me. But mother insisted, and so I came."

He chose not to mention the fact that they appeared to be moving in the direction of that dark corner he had spied earlier.

Silas' eyes only got darker. "So you're saying you would marry anyone interested?"

"Well, yes. I suppose so." Ira mused.

They arrived at that dark corner and before Ira had time to ask what the man was doing, he found himself pressed up against the wall, hidden from the sight of others. Ira frowned and was on the edge of voicing his questions when a harsh kiss left him dazed.

He made a sound of protest that was quickly silenced and Ira moved his leg to knee the man in the crotch. He wasn't some damsel in distress being taken advantage of.

Unfortunately, Silas moved out of the way before it could connect and pressed another kiss to Ira, a kiss that used his tongue. Ira pressed against his chest to get him to move away and groaned lowly when he felt not totally disgusted. Silas moved away slowly and looked unfairly satisfied with himself. While Ira was glaring at him, Silas spoke.

"The only one you'll be marrying is me."

Ira watched as he walked away, leaving him standing in a dark corner alone.

In the ballroom, a hush fell over the people as they watched the magical sight of two beautiful people dancing. The Second Prince and Eliza certainly had a royal air around them as they twirled in time with the music. In another corner of the room, a scorned fiancée was fuming with rage and envy.

Ira licked his lips, still able to feel the pressure on them. He wondered if the man was serious about that marriage he kept talking about. If he was, Bran's mother would certainly be happy with him.

Deciding that he had done his duty for the night, Ira walked along the walls of the ballroom to make his way out of the building and go back to his dorm. He needed a good night's sleep.

Come to think on it, the last person to kiss him was that demon. 

 


	18. 2.9

Ira woke up the next morning, well rested and as happy as he could be while working.

There was an inkling in his thoughts that he was forgetting something, but he really couldn't care less. If it were important, he wouldn't have forgotten it in the first place.

It was the morning after the much anticipated Winter Ball and when he checked in on his Host, he found her laying in bed, blissfully asleep. Ira wasn't ashamed to say that he didn't know how her night with the Second Prince had ended, because he honestly didn't care, but when he saw the prince right next to her in the bed, he was surprised. 

The prince must have been _really_ drunk.

A little zooming in showed no hint of clothes on either of them and both of them were practically dead to the world. 

Chances were they _would_ be dead to the world when the scandal broke.

Scandals _always_ broke.

Ira kept watch over them in the corner of his mind while he got dressed and ready to go get breakfast. He was awake and though he would like to spend a few more hours in bed, the library was finally opening again and he wanted to get more books. He had already read all the ones he had in his room. 

That morning, he was the only one in the cafeteria. 

Ira grabbed the chance the solitude gave him and nabbed a few extra muffins to eat. Usually, they disappeared so fast that it was a victory managing to get just the one. Ira didn't think his Host even knew they were a thing, with how often she missed breakfast. It was the only time they were available.

The library, when he arrived, had only just opened.

Behind the front desk, the librarian sat reading a book of her own. Ira walked forwards and engaged in a pleasant conversation that ended with a promise of tea time the next day, at the usual time.

Up the stairs and between the shelves, he finally reached a stack of books he hadn't yet read. Turning a few over in his hands, he glanced over the titles and scoffed at the nausea inducing cheesiness that some of them contained. But Ira was in the mood to mock things, so he left them on a pile on one of the wooden tables anyway, despite the fact that they induced in him a vivid urge to murder.

Everybody had faults.

His just happened to be an unhealthy desire to kill. No big deal.

At least he wasn't stupid.

When he had a pile big enough that it no longer fit in his bag, he crammed in the ones that fit and carried the rest downstairs to check them out. 

As he was walking down, a high shriek pierced his head and he cursed as he misstepped when he jumped in surprise, causing him to tumble down the last few steps. He stopped rolling at the bottom of the stairs and thanked himself for the foresight of turning off his ability to feel pain. That must have hurt.

When he attempted to stand up again to make sure his books had survived the trip, something was wrong with his foot.

It wasn't working right.

In fact, he was pretty sure he could see the beginnings of a bruise spreading on it.

Ira jumped around on his other leg as he gathered his things and enjoyed his amazing sense of balance. He must have been making a pretty hilarious picture.

Once he had all of his things, he checked up on what had disturbed him and caused his fall. His Host and the Second Prince were in the middle of a screaming match in his Host's room. The prince was accusing her of wanting to trap him in a marriage and his Host was accusing him of taking advantage of her. 

He watched as his Host threw stuff at the prince and the prince accused her of very accurate crimes, while his Host was becoming a sobbing mess. Curses were thrown around and in the middle of it all, the mention of a pregnancy came up.

After that, things just went downhill.

Ira limped his way to the front desk and piled his books on top of it. The librarian looked him over and got a funny look on her face. She asked, "Bran, are you alright? You're limping!"

"I fell down the stairs."

Her eyes widened and she immediately stood up to round the desk. "Come. I'm taking you to the infirmary."

Before he had a chance to refuse, she had grabbed a hold of his arm and hoisted it over her shoulder. Her stern face told him she wasn't going to fold, stubborn woman that she was. So with a sigh, he let himself be dragged away while his bag and a pile of books stayed on the desk. He hated leaving them behind him, but he got the funny feeling he would be getting a lecture if he tried mentioning it and so he abstained from it.

He was way too old to still be getting lectured.

Ira had never been to the infirmary before, but it certainly fit the image of the school. It was just as grand and exaggerated as the rest of the place.

The librarian left him on a small bed and went off to find a nurse.

Meanwhile, Ira continued to watch the show.

The prince was absolutely furious, his magic almost seeping off of him. His expression was that of disgust whenever he looked at his Host. Whatever had happened after Ira had left the Ball, it had effectively destroyed any chance of the Second Prince ever falling in love with his Host. Ira supposed his Host could still pressure him into marriage, if she played her cards right, but that would only increase the prince's hostility.

This mission was officially a failure.

Ira laid down on the bed and observed his Host through a scattered mind. Two failures in a row. He hoped that didn't mean there was something wrong with him. No, wait, of course there wasn't. He always did his job seriously. It was this new batch of Host's that had lost their sense of responsibility and duty due the many transmigration stories that existed in different worlds. They thought they knew what was right and so refused to listen. And the idea that he would have a will of his own was somehow inconceivable to them.

The nurse arrived with a bang, a young woman that fussed over him as if he was a child. He got a lot of stern words over being careful and his foot was healed with magic. There would, thankfully, not be any need of casts. But he would need to rest and stay off of his feet for the next week or so and so he was given a pass from attending classes.

She also informed him that a teacher would be responsible for bringing him his meals and making sure that he didn't starve.

Ira smiled gratefully at her when he was finally released from her custody. She beamed back at him. "Now, a professor will be by soon to pick you up and bring you to your room, so you just rest until then, okay?"

Ira nodded. "Okay."

His Host had been left alone in her after the prince finally left. She was red in the face and blotchy from all the crying. Her nose was leaking snot and tear tracks covered her cheeks, smudging her makeup and making her look like a deranged clown.

Ira smothered a laugh.

A door opened and through it stepped Silas, silent as the grave while his gaze swept over the room until it hit Ira.

When Silas saw him, he stalked over quickly. He smirked. "I heard you fell down the stairs in the library."

Ira tilted his head to look up at him from where he was laying in the bed. "Yes."

Silas sat down on the bed beside Ira. "You really need to be more careful. You could have died."

Ira quirked his lips in a small smile. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Luck." narrowing his eyes, Silas stared at Ira with a harsh glare.

Ira smiled the most annoying smile he could muster up and said, "Luck is a force as well, you know."

"Regardless," Silas began and reached out for Ira's hand. "you need to learn your limits. You can't keep skating by on luck forever."

"Why not?" Ira rose an eyebrow in question.

Silas smiled in answer and said nothing. Instead, he pulled on Ira's hand until Ira sat up. Ira ignored him as he swung his legs off of the bed and made to stand.

"What did I just tell you?" Silas exasperated voice sounded and then he was abruptly picked up in what was known as the princess carry. Ira furrowed his brows.

He asked, "What are you doing?"

"Carrying you to your room, of course." Silas answered promptly.

"Of course. " Ira muttered to himself.

He could have attempted to get away from what was undoubtedly a funny image to see, but he didn't understand why he should. He had seen his Host's get carried like this, and they always complained and made a fuss about it, saying it was embarrassing. Who cared about that? His foot wasn't working and he was getting a free, comfortable ride. He was actually pretty pleased right now. Like having a personal servant.

They made their way across the school grounds, until they got to Ira's dorms, at which point a passing student helpfully opened the door for them. Ira could feel eyes on him constantly, but he couldn't care less about that.

When they reached his room, Ira was sat back on the ground, leaning against Silas so his bad foot didn't carry any of his weight. He fished his key out of a pocket and unlocked the door.

His room was exactly like he left it. Before he had a chance to enter, he was once again picked up and carried inside, until he was dropped on the bed, bouncing a little as he went. Ira pushed himself backwards until he sat leaning against the wall, whereupon he grabbed a pillow and stuffed it behind his back.

Silas smiled at him. "Better?"

"Yes." Ira decided that for his assistance the man deserved a reward, and so granted him an honest smile.

The man's eyes widened and he took several steps forwards, until he was right in front of Ira. "You should really be more careful, Bran. You never know what kind of person you let in through your door."

Ira frowned in confusion. "What?"

Silas smirked. "I've sent the letter to your parents, requesting your hand in marriage. I anticipate that you'll get a notice soon, saying we are to be married. Your family knows better than to refuse me."

Ah. So that was what he forgot. "You were serious about that? I thought your were kidding."

"I'm always serious about you."

Okay, now it was starting to get a little too sappy. Ira shrugged. "Well, if my parents approve, I'll marry you."

He saw nothing wrong with agreeing. He wasn't going to be here for much longer. His Host had failed her mission. Any day now, that annoying text _Mission Failed_ would glare at him and he would leave this world and body. When that happened, what did it matter if he was or about to be married? He didn't think the people in this world approved of same-sex marriages for important people like Silas, but apparently exceptions could be made.

"Good." Silas said. "Then it's decided. We'll marry in the summer."

Ira just shrugged again, not especially interested in the conversation. By summer, he would already be gone. He could feel it.

Things were coming to an end.

Silas bent forwards and kissed Ira on the cheek, reminding him of the kissing they had done at the Ball. Still, as nice as it felt, to have someone think of him as a person with his own opinions, he was no blushing bride. Silas leaned back and Ira saw him look way too happy for a guy that had just gotten an agreement to marry. Ira didn't understand it. But he didn't really feel like crushing his hopes.

Curious.

Silas stood up straight and said, "Don't forget. You'll be marrying me."

 


	19. 2.10

On the other side of the school grounds from where Ira was resting in his room, completely isolated from society, a meeting was taking place. In his mind, he could see the Second Prince's fiancée pacing in a large room to the sound of dramatic music. It was obvious she was going to do something stupid.

Or, more precisely, desperate.

Ira had absolutely no interest in her, but the image she was making was exactly like one of those melodramatic teen dramas you saw on tv, you know, the ones that didn't make any sense. And for all that Ira got nauseous at the bare hint of romance, watching that romance crash and burn was top quality material.

Priceless.

His Host was locked in her room, still in despair at how her plan had turned out.

Ira wasn't sure what she was so dissatisfied with, she had planned to get the guy's attention and now she had it. In a negative fashion, yes, but she still had it.

For the first time in literally months.

On his desk laid a piece of paper. It was the letter from his mother, confirming that they had accepted his marriage to Silas and there was no way out for him. Ira had no intention of trying to get out of it, there was absolutely no point.

Ira turned the page in his book and just when he was about to continue reading, a knock sounded on his door. Frowning, he set the book aside on his bedside table and stood up from his bed.

He opened the door and promptly cursed himself for not checking on who it was first.

Silas was on the other side, a smile playing on his lips and an air of satisfaction around him. "Hello, Bran."

Ira's face was blank. "Hello."

"I'm taking you out on a date." Silas said, with a serious look in his eyes that said he was not kidding around.

"No." Ira deadpanned and abruptly closed the door.

Well, he tried to, anyway. It was a very valiant attempt. If it wasn't due to the fact that Silas was physically stronger than Bran, it would have worked. As it was, he was leaning his weight on it and hoping it would snap closed. Ira could deal with a lot of things. He could agree to a marriage that was never going to happen, but a _date_? Now that was too sappy for him.

Ira was no teenager and he was no lovestruck fool. He didn't really want to get to know Silas. There was no reason for him to go on a _date_ with the man.

Silas obviously disagreed with him, because he shoved the door open again and stepped into the room, forcing Ira to step back. "We are going to be married. Getting to know each other better is common sense."

Ira just shook his head. "No. Not happening."

Silas narrowed his eyes. "About twenty minutes away with a carriage away, there is a café that serves chocolate cake. It is supposed to be the best in the kingdom."

Ira's eyes went wide. When he put it like that, it was clear as day what his choice would be. Ira grabbed his coat and shoes and pushed his way past the man. "Well," he looked back at the man that still hadn't moved. "what are you waiting for?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking about how much I love you." Silas said and smiled.

"Love is nothing but an illusion." Ira objected.

Silas followed him out and Ira locked the door. As they were leaving, Ira thought of something and said, "You know, you should have started with the bit about the cake."

"I realize that now." Silas drawled.

Ira smiled before he could stop himself. Luckily, it seemed like Silas didn't notice.

He didn't want to give the man any ideas.

The date was far more pleasant than Ira thought it would be. He spent the trip there reading the book he automatically brought with him and ignoring the other man in the carriage with him. Once there, they were seated immediately, despite the fact that there was a line outside the door, several meters long.

The cake was, as promised, absolutely delicious. Ira even thanked the man for bringing him there.

That was how good the cake was.

Sadly, after squeezing down three whole pieces of cake, this body could no longer eat any more of it, and they finally left the café. Silas did the gentlemanly thing and paid for it all. When Ira saw the price, he almost spit out his water from how ridiculously expensive it was.

But he had more class than that, and so no such thing happened.

On the way back to the school, Ira fell asleep fairly soon after the carriage started moving. They had spent hours at the café and Ira had completely forgotten about his pain of a Host for a precious time. It was nice, to be treated like he mattered and wasn't just a servant there to do his Host's bidding. Funny, that was how all the Hosts saw systems. He didn't understand their narrow worldview, but he also didn't understand them at any other time either.

Regardless, he took advantage of his good mood and fell asleep easily, worried about nothing. The mission was already screwed and his Host's every action was still being automatically recorded. There was no reason for him to even think about it now.

The next few days passed uneventfully.

School was like school always was. His Host was again up to no good, though Ira didn't bother to find out what, the Second Prince was still studiously avoiding his Host and the prince's fiancée was (rightfully) suspicious that something had happened between the Second Prince and his Host.

Ira spent most of his days in the library, ignoring the drama that was going on around him, and reading letters upon letters from Bran's mother, complimenting him for his skills at seduction. He had no idea what she was talking about.

He was pretty sure he would know if he had seduced someone.

That wasn't really something you did accidentally.

Regardless, it was a time of peace and calm. For him, that was. His Host was desperate to find a way to fix he situation.

Not to mention their studies, which she was woefully behind on because all she had focused on was the prince.

As he was walking back to his dorms after leaving the library, his Host dragged him into an alleyway and pushed him up against the wall. She was using her magic to augment her strength, but Ira would't have gone through the trouble of avoiding her anyway. She would have just hunted him down later, even more furious.

She hissed out, "Give me a magic pill."

What? Did she think he was an apothecary? He had no pills nor did he condone the use of drugs for anything other then medical purposes.

"For what?" Ira asked her, honestly bewildered. He had taken his the status of the mission to mean that he didn't need to keep as close an eye on her.  He had never been lectured for doing it before.

She narrowed her green eyes at him. "To increase my magic power, obviously. If I can't have him because of my beauty than I'll just use my other advantages."

Did she forget that the mission wasn't to marry him, but to fall in mutual love with him?

The Second Prince was handsome, powerful and had a guaranteed salary. It shouldn't be a hardship for her to fall in love with him. From what he had seen of previous Hosts, those were the most important things when considering a lover, much less a person to marry.

Ira leaned his had back on the wall he was shoved up against. "You don't have sufficient points to but any pills."

She frowned. "Aren't there beginner's packs?"

"No." Wherever had she gotten that idea? 

"Can you increase my magic power or not?" she demanded.

Ira rose an eyebrow and calmly told her, "No."

"Why not?" she pushed him harder and growled at him.

Ira shrugged the best he could. "This is your first mission and it's in Tutorial Mode. You have absolutely no benefits _other_ than the Tutorial Mode."

"Well, when will I get them, then?"

"Once you are a veteran Host and world-traveler. That is, in about 100'000 successful mission."

"WHAT?!" she stepped back and let go of Ira in her shock. "That many?! That's impossible! No-one could manage that many missions and succeed at every single one of them!"

Ira shrugged again. "It's been done before."

"No." she shook her head vigorously. "No way! It can't be done! You're just lying to me because you don't want to admit that you want me to fail! You've never been on my side since the very beginning!"

"Obviously." Ira deadpanned.

"Yo-you..." she stumbled back. "what's wrong with you?! Isn't this supposed to be your duty?! You should help me with whatever I need and make sure I succeed! Traveling through worlds with no benefits, cheats or help... nobody could do that! Never!"

Ira tilted his head. "It doesn't matter anyway. You've already failed this mission. You might as well let it go and relax during the time that's left."

 _"I haven't failed."_ she growled at him.

Ira just rolled his eyes in response. He had no patience to deal with her lack of sense. She could do what she pleased during the time that was left, it was all on her head anyway. Ira wouldn't take any part in whatever punishment she received. Of course, it was the Tutorial Mode, so she wasn't actually supposed to be punished at all. But the Boss had found that the Hosts didn't try hard enough when they knew there would be no punishment in the event of failure, so Ira's Hosts would be temporarily getting punished regardless of the Tutorial Mode.

He wasn't sure how long that was going to last or if it was going to become a permanent rule, it all depended on what the Boss thought of the results.

While she was in complete denial over the state of the mission, Ira left the alley and corrected his clothes out of habit. He didn't actually care about how he looked — it wasn't like it was his body — but being presentable in a school was simply common decency.

He left his Host behind as he returned to his room, intent on not bothering with her again. The form for a new Host had been left in and from earlier precedence, he already knew it would be accepted. Again, he had no idea why he was treated so well among the system, the very highest rank and a great deal of respect from the younger and lower ones. But he wasn't the sort of person that wouldn't take advantage of an opportunity presented on a silver platter.

That would just be rude.

On his way back to his dorms, he figured he could do his job, just a little bit, and checked in on the male protagonist. The Second Prince was in a meeting with the King, away from the school and if he was hearing correctly, they were talking about the Crown Prince. Whose identity Ira didn't know, because he couldn't be bothered to find out.

He had no reason to and so simply didn't bother with it.

Out of a sense of curiosity he couldn't place, he then checked up on Silas. Just for a moment, he saw as the man was seemingly in the middle of scheming with what looked like fairy strong nobles.

Then he had fulfilled his curiosity and had no reason to continue looking, and concentrated on what was physically in front of him again.

As his last duty, he checked up on the Second Prince's fiancée and found her to be sleeping with a satisfied smile on her face. If her sleep-talking was to be believed, she had killed his Host and was very happy about it.

Well, that gave away _her_ plan.

 


	20. 2.11

The clearing was empty save two souls.

Ira glanced around the trees he was hiding behind to see his Host and her roommate in the middle of what seemed to be a ritual. If his understanding of it was correct, it was meant to increase the casters raw power.

He observed as she bled all over the symbols carved into the ground, as she chanted some made-up sounding words and poured her magic into it.

A pillar of light emerged from the ground right where his Host and her roommate were sitting on the ground. It rose high into the sky, so high that he couldn't see the end of it. A soundlessness took over the area, granting it an eerie atmosphere. The wind blew heavily around the pillar of light, rushing back and forwards like it was the center of a raging storm.

Ira squatted down on the ground and held onto a tree to stay in place.

He squinted his eyes, trying to see what was happening inside. When it didn't work, he zoomed in in his mind and observed his Host, passed out in the middle of the storm. 

Her roommate didn't display any life-signs.

It was obvious her roommate wouldn't survive such an ordeal, not having the benefit of being a protagonist.

Sighing, Ira could just imagine all of the complains his Host would wage when she realized she had inadvertently killed her roommate. The girl was far too sensible to come up with an idea so suicidial as this one, so it had to have been his Host's idea. And she must have convinced her roommate with some impressive deceit too, because Ira could never have imagined she would do something so monumentally foolish of her own choice.

The light dissipated with nary a sound and Ira stood up straight again. He had no desire to go closer, he could see perfectly well from here, so he supposed it was time to go back to his dorm and hope his Host didn't wreck the world while away from his supervision.

He sighed in annoyance and turned to walk away, feeling his heart almost jump out of his chest when he came face to face with Silas, standing utterly silent behind him. Ira might have, possibly, known he was there and ignored him because he was in the middle of his entertainment and was thus busy with more important things.

He might have also forgotten he was there at all.

Involuntarily, he brought up to his chest and felt it beat like a train derailing under his hand. It was going way too fast to be healthy. Probably, he didn't actually keep track of such information.

Ira swore and demanded, "What are you doing?"

Silas grabbed a hold of Ira's hand and started dragging him away from the area by brut force. "Saving your life. Did you know she was going to do this?"

"No. It's not like I keep track of what she's doing. That's absolutely no fun at all." Ira answered in a dry tone.

Silas cast a look over his shoulder at Ira. "Good. Don't ever let anyone know that you were here."

Ira rose an eyebrow. "Sure."

What had his Host done wrong now?

As he was dragged away from her, he zoomed in on her in his mind. He could see as she realized her roommate was dead, as she realized it was all her fault and burst out crying with loud ugly sobs that didn't fit her at all, and as her magic swelled around to become something _more_. The ritual had obviously done _something_ , but he didn't think it was what she had been aiming for.

Silas dragged him out of the woods and into the common school grounds and continued dragging him, not to his room as he would have expected, but to Silas' private rooms that all teachers that lived on the premises had.

Supposedly, they were quite luxurious.

Ira frowned as he was brought into the teachers dorms, but he didn't say anything because he was actually curious. It had never occurred to him to check them out before, but now that he had the option, he found that he wanted to know.

Actually, now that he thought about it, he was sort of curious how Silas' personal rooms looked like too.

That was a first.

He wondered if he was getting sick.

Hopefully it wasn't terminal. He had heard that that was a very painful way to go that he really didn't want to experience.

Ira was brought into a pair of rooms on the highest floor and if he wasn't wrong, the whole floor belonged to Silas. He wondered how he had managed to get so much room as a common teacher and figured that maybe he had been onto to something when he imagined that Silas had a secret identity. But what was it? There were so many options.

He could be a spy from another nation, a _prince_ from another nation, an assassin sent to kill the Second Prince, a special bodyguard to guard the Second Prince and so much more.

Yeah, Ira really needed to get out more.

He stared around at the top quality room, the mirrors lined in gold, the marble walls and floor, the rugs that screamed money and the many paintings that looked like they could be melted into money on the walls.

Everything said 'RICH!'.

Ira felt like torching the place.

He turned around in the middle of the room he was standing in. "So? Why did you drag me away?"

He was promptly kissed.

Ira stumbled backwards from the force the man used to hold onto him as he kissed him. Silas held on tight to his waist and back, angling Ira's head for the easiest access. Ira's eyes widened from surprise and he rose his hands to push the man away before he stopped.

This was kind of, sort of, nice. Maybe he should give the man a bit more time before he murdered him for it...

He could feel a hand wandering down towards his ass and he was pretty sure that was Silas' tongue in his mouth, but he still didn't try to resist. He wasn't really the sort of person to feign resistance just to satisfy some strange pride. This whole kissing thing was relatively new to him, but if it always felt this good, maybe he should try it out more often. 

He would have to try it out with other people, see how it felt with them. It would be an experiment.

Silas pulled back just enough that they were no long kissing. "You're distracted." he said and pulled a little on Ira's hair. He hadn't noticed him getting a hold of it.

"Just think only of me." Silas said and went back to kissing Ira hard.

A few embarrassing noises left Ira as a result of the man's skill at it. Ira found himself being pushed backwards and he walked along with it in order not to fall over. His legs hit a fairly high bed and before he could protest, he was pushed down on it.

Oh, so this was what he often saw in manga. Come to think of it, he was pretty sure there was a genre specifically for male same-sex relationships in manga. Maybe he should buy a few of those. 

A hand sneaked under his clothes to touch his bare skin.

Ira used every inch of strength Bran had to push Silas away from him. The man looked down on him from above and it was like a scene straight from a manga.

Even Ira could admit that he made an attractive picture like that.

Still though, Ira wasn't about to be so swept along that he would forget himself. "I've let you do more than enough."

"Really?" Silas asked in a low voice and bent down to kiss him again. Ira pushed him back and glared at him.

"Really."

Silas stared at him with narrowed eyes for a few tense minutes. If he pressed the issue, Ira had no problem with relieving him of a few precious attachments. He would not be pushed into doing something he wasn't sure he was absolutely comfortable with.

After a few minutes of staring, Silas smiled and sat back on the bed. Ira struggled up and leaned back on his hands.

Silas coughed out a small laugh. "You're one of a kind, Bran. I truly _do_ love you."

"And you're getting more delusional by the day." Ira shot back.

Silas stood from the bed. He walked away to the door and just before he opened it and left he said, "I love you. Otherwise, your lack of consent would mean nothing to me."

Ira narrowed his eyes, but the man had already left.

He fell back on the bed. It was actually really comfortable and come to think of it, be had been awake for a long time. It was already starting to edge in on morning. And it was that man's fault for just leaving him behind.

Ira fell asleep within minutes.

The following few days were quiet. Absolutely nothing happened that caught Ira's attention and he had already stopped paying attention to his studies. They were useless now and as he had spent the past few days living in Silas' rooms than his owns, he already learnt all he could on magic theory from the man himself. Apparently he really enjoyed the subject, because he would gladly talk to Ira about it, even when he didn't ask.

Aside from a few chaste kisses, they didn't do anything more than that, which Ira found that he actually liked. It was nice to be listened to.

Of course, it could also be because Silas was distracted by something else, but Ira didn't care about that.

He wasn't sure how he had ended up living with Silas, had no idea how that had happened, but Silas was a surprisingly good roommate and so he didn't mind. It helped that the place was huge and the bath was gigantic. He might have been spending more time in there than what was strictly healthy.

Somehow, a lot of his books had been migrating to Silas' place, despite the fact that Ira had yet to been back at his place. He just kept getting distracted by one thing or another. And Silas liked delivering breakfast in bed. Why would Ira deprive himself of such a good servant when he didn't need to?

Rolling his eyes at the idiocy of some people, he dragged his covers over him tighter. They were much more comfortable than his own, and so he had booted Silas out of the bed as soon as he apparently moved in. Curiously, Silas had had no problem with this.

He hadn't even protested.

Maybe he didn't like his bed? Well, if that was the case, it was his loss and Ira's gain, because it was really freaking soft.

And he was pretty sure the sheets were made of silk.

He felt his eyes fluttering closed again as he was surrounded by a cocoon of warmth. His natural aptitude for sleeping was like a blessing in this bed. Just laying in it was enough to make him sleepy. 

There was a banging on the door, but in his relaxed state, Ira could only barely hear it. And he chose consciously to ignore, because he frankly could not care less.

The banging got louder until, finally, the door gave way and was destroyed.

Ira buried his head underneath his pillow.

"SYSTEM?!"

His Host screamed so loud the whole school probably heard her. Ira kept his eyes closed and hoped she wouldn't find him. He sensed trouble following her and wanted nothing to do with it.

"Where are you?! I know you're here, so just come out!"

Yeah, no. There was no way he would be doing that. Did she think he was an absolute fool? Who would ever respond well to a tone like that?

A loud crash sounded as part of the wall was demolished and his map now helpfully informed him that his Host was in the same room as him. Ira groaned and pushed himself up from the bed a little, because otherwise she would probably destroy it too, and it didn't deserve that.

"Well," he said as he stared at her ragged visage. "don't you look crazy."

 


	21. 2.12

Ira was dragged out of the bed by his irate Host, forced to stand as she shook him wildly. His head was flown about and he distractedly felt something snap.

"Ow." Ira said emotionlessly.

Her eyes had a manic gleam as she demanded, "You have to help me, System!"

Ira grabbed a hold of her arms and forced her to stop shaking him. "Help you with what? What did you do now?"

"I don't know!" she hung her and sounded on the verge of tears as she continued, "I tried to get close to him, and his guards stopped me! They actually pushed me into the ground and one of them was going to use a spell! I barely got away in time! You have to help me!"

A commotion sounded at the door to Silas' room. Ira saw as multiple little dots, among them the Second Prince and his guards as well as Silas, approached the rooms.

It wouldn't take them long to arrive.

Ira took a deep breath and resigned himself to dealing with this idiocy for a few more minutes. "I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong."

She let him go and stepped back. "But I don't _know_!"

"Did you leak state secrets? Try to murder anybody close to the prince? Try to blackmail him? Demand that he leave his fiancée for you again? What?" Ira listed things he could imagine her doing and watched as her face went delightfully red.

 _Something_ had certainly struck a cord with her.

She shook her head and cried out pitifully. "NO! I would never do anything like that!"

Ira rose an eyebrow in serious doubt. "You already told the prince to leave his fiancée."

"Well, that was... that was different. Anyway, that's not what this is about!" she stubbornly insisted.

"So you _do_ know what's wrong?"

She took several more steps back from him. "I... I don't... it's... _difficult_ to explain."

"Try me." Ira stated.

She looked everywhere but at him, while the dots were coming ever closer. "I, sort of, maybe, told him that I'm... _pregnant_."

Her voice got progressively lower with each word and with the last damning one, she was simply whispering. Ira wondered exactly how much an idiot a person could be and the answer was once more given in the form of his Host.

"I can't help you with that." Ira deadpanned.

"But- but you have to!" she objected in a loud voice. The door to the room was opened and through it, he could see a total of five people. There was the Second Prince and his two guards, Silas and the Second Prince's fiancée. All of them were staring at his Host with a variety of hostility.

She turned around when she heard the door open and her face went through weird mess at the sight of the Second Prince.

The others entered the room that actually wasn't that crammed, because it was a really big room. Ira kept his eyes on the ones with the obvious weapons and Silas crossed over the length of the room to get to Ira. When he arrived by Ira's side, he asked, "Are you alright, Bran?"

Ira just nodded.

His attention was focused on his Host and whatever was about to happen. He had a feeling he wouldn't want to miss it.

As always, he was right.

The accusations between his Host and the Second Prince started flying immediately, drawing his Host's attention away from the rest of the people. This would prove to be fatal as the guards moved into position to presumably kill her. She had made a nuisance of herself and a future king simply couldn't have it. Especially if she started spreading rumors that she was pregnant, which Ira knew she was not. He would have seen a brand new life sign in her stomach as soon as the baby was conceived.

There was none, so she wasn't pregnant.

As the argument heated up, his Host did what all Hosts did. Try to solve the problem by force. She headed her magic for some no doubt impressive spell, but before she could cast it, red bloomed on her chest.

Behind his Host, with a sword still through his Host's chest, was the Second Prince's fiancée, looking disturbingly calm for committing murder.

His Host had no time to do anything at all before she died, as the sword had gone straight through her heart. When the murderer pulled out the sword, his Host's body collapsed like a puppet with it's strings cut.

The words _Mission Failed_  blazed across his vision.

His Host's soul left Eliza's body and this world, to return to the Waiting Room.

Ira immediately began the process of cutting his connection to his current body.

Before he could finish, Silas embraced him from behind. Ira glanced over his shoulder to see an uncharacteristic look of panic on his face. Despite himself, he was still curious, so he asked, "What?"

"I love you." Silas stated and hugged Ira tighter, until it almost felt like his ribs were about to break.

Ira hummed. "So you've said."

Silas squeezed him even tighter. "Then why do you insist on leaving me?"

Ira didn't bother to wonder why he knew that he was leaving. Silas was undoubtedly a genius powerhouse. Instead, he answered, "Because I don't love you."

He was spun around and kissed before he could get another word out.

It was a kiss of desperation.

He found himself responding to it because, well, why not? It was a nice kiss and he had started getting used to kissing Silas. The man knew what he was doing and he was very very good at it.

He ignored the commotion that was going on in the background. Silas tilted his head and kissed him deeper, while Ira did what he could to keep up. His hands hung onto Silas' shoulders and he was aware, in the back of his mind, that there was a distinct lack of disgust in him.

The pleasure from the kiss kept him from paying any attention to the wriggling feeling of something blossoming on his skin.

When he finally back for air and Silas leaned back so he was no longer being squeezed to death, Ira flickered his eyes open. He wasn't sure when he had closed them, but the sight that met him was no longer a panicked Silas, but rather a satisfied one. Ira frowned in confusion and the man answered the unasked question by saying, "You can't leave me."

Ira tried to put some more space between them, but Silas was still holding him tight. "What?"

"You can't." Silas stated. "The curse will force you to be within fifteen meters of me at all times, otherwise you will feel pain until you pass out."

Ira shook his head. "What curse? What are you blabbering about now?"

"The curse I just put on you."

As Ira wondered about that, Silas undid his shirt and pulled it down over his arms. Ira watched as intricate tattoo-like symbols appeared and a bright glowed golden color. They appeared to be moving on his skin.

Silas took a hold of his chin and forced his head up. "With this, you can't ever leave me."

"Hmm." Ira tilted his head sideways and examined it. His mind went over every piece of it until he reached the conclusion that it was harmless to him. It only bound the body and even if it _had_ bound the soul, Ira's soul was much too powerful to just be bound all willy-nilly.

Still, it was certainly, "Beautiful. It won't stop me, though."

Silas narrowed his eyes. "Yes, it will. That is forbidden magic. There is nothing more powerful than that."

"Of course there is." Ira commented. "But that doesn't matter. There is nothing that can keep me in this world."

"Not even the fact that you're the only one I've ever loved and I would destroy the world without you?" Silas demanded.

Ira rose a skeptical eyebrow. "Really? This isn't a teen drama, you know."

"A what?" Silas asked, looking adorably bewildered.

Ira shook his head. "My job here is done now that Eliza is dead. There is no reason for me to stay."

Silas demanded, "So you agreed to marry me, knowing it would never happen?"

"Yes."

He found himself kissing again. Ira swallowed the sound of protest that wanted to leave his lips on reflex and instead enjoyed it shamelessly. His eyes slid closed and his thoughts cleared of his Host and missions and work. He instead took the time to get some selfish pleasure for his own. With his Host dead, the mission was officially over and he didn't have to report anything that happened after. Not that he wouldn't report it if asked, but it felt oddly private. Usually, he didn't care about things like that.

He had found that a lot of things were different when he was with Silas. It was an odd feeling that he wasn't sure he liked.

He was pushed down on the bed, which was still really comfortable so he wasn't mad about that. In lieu of knowing what to do with his hands now that he wasn't really resisting anymore, he let them rest by his side. Ira felt almost like he was floating where he laid.

He would really have to find someone else to kiss, test if this feeling was only with Silas or if it always felt like this, kissing.

Ira felt his shirt being pushed up and a hand touch his skin. He opened his eyes to see that Silas' eyes were open as well. The man pushed his hand up further along Ira's chest and he stopped kissing. Instead, Silas dropped kissing all over his neck, and he could clearly feel marks being made.

To be honest, he didn't really know what was going on anymore. When he went back to his home, he would need to get some more hardcore manga and research this. He was starting to feel almost embarrassed by his lack of knowledge concerning things like this.

You know, sex.

On that note, how did two males have sex?

Again, a question for his manga to answer.

Silas mumbled into his neck, "See? I am everything you need. You don't have to leave."

Ira saw out of the corner of his eyes as the Second Prince stared at them with pure horror on his face. "You might be what I need, but that doesn't mean you're what I _want_."

"Then I will make sure that I am all that you will every want." Silas stated.

Ira rolled his eyes. "You can't make sure of that."

Silas hummed into his skin and continued his quest to mark him. Ira leaned back and enjoyed it, knowing full well that his soul was almost disconnected now. Just a few more to go and he would leave.

Curse his curiosity.

"So..." Ira began, "are you actually the Crown Prince?"

Silas stopped what he was doing and hugged Ira tighter. "Yes. I thought you knew that."

"Hmm? Why? I don't care about that." Ira said thoughtlessly. But on that note... "If I had actually married you, would I have been king?"

He felt more than saw Silas laughing. "No. You would be the King's Consort and you wound't have any real power beyond my name."

Ira sighed in disappointment. "Oh. More power is more fun, though."

"If power is what it takes for you to stay here with me, I will gladly give you all of mine." Silas promised fervently.

Ira gazed down at him silently for a few minutes.

In the end, he laid back down on the comfortable bed that felt like heaven and said, "This is the way things are. There is nothing you can do about it."

He was really going to miss this bed.

Silas hugged him tighter. "I will follow you. No matter how far you run, I will follow you."

"I'm not running, I'm just doing my job." Ira grumbled out.

"Then why can't you do your job with me?" Silas demanded harshly.

Ira smiled a little at that. "Because you're not powerful enough."

With that, he decided he had let this drag on too long. He did have other things to be doing, there was an unopened box of manga that he had just received before he began this mission and he had ordered another one that been on the way. He had been looking forwards to them for a while now.

Ira closed his eyes and cut the last of the connection tying him to this body and world. He really hoped that his new box of manga had arrived.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Arc 2.
> 
> This is only a back-up copy. Updates will be posted on wattpad first.


	22. 3.1

The sharp smell of the sea surrounded the large ship.

Ira leaned on the broom he was supposed to be using to wash the ships flooring, but honestly, he saw no point to it. Everybody on the ship, besides maybe the Captain and the cook, were covered in filth and spread it around faster than he could wash it off. It was much easier to just not wash it at all and blame it on everybody else when people discovered he wasn't doing his job.

Which, oddly enough, was almost never. He would have thought that they would be stricter and harsher, but for a ship full of tired, cranky naval officers, they were actually very lax.

Or they just didn't notice him because he was so far down the social ladder.

Which was just fine with him. He much preferred not having to do any work at all.

Ira had, at this point in time, been on the ship for just over two full weeks. During this time, they had been sailing steadily north, towards colder water, in order to take a very specific passage through to some other continent. Ira didn't pay any attention to which one.

With each passing day, the winds got more biting, and the crew complained louder (though still out of earshot of the Captain) about the horrible conditions. They were worried that eventually the drinking water they had aboard the ship would freeze, and that the ice covering the sea would be so cold they could no longer fish. Personally, Ira thought they should be more worried about getting scurvy, but to each his own he supposed.

He had yet to see hair nor hide of his Host, which was to be expected, considering she was possessing a mermaid.

Above him, the sky was an unrepentantly cheerful blue, with hardly a cloud in sight. A good storm would do much to improve his mood, but it had yet to happen. He thought the weather would be more... vicious, but it had proven to be infuriatingly calm.

At least he knew that a storm wasn't far off now. A few more weeks and the whole ship would capsize.

At that point, the body he was possessing would promptly drown, as it couldn't swim and Ira couldn't either — he was a system, where would he have learnt it? — but it was no trouble. He would simply find another body to possess and his Host wouldn't be able to tell the difference, considering they still wouldn't have met at that point. After all, it wasn't until the ship sunk that the story would begin.

His current Host was possessing a mermaid that was the servant of the princess. Due to an assassination attempt gone wrong, the mermaid princess that got legs from a Sea Witch because she fell in love with a human, died too soon. His Host was possessing her servant and her job was simply to prevent the assassination by any means necessary. Meaning, he mission was to die in her place. Which couldn't be difficult.

She just had to stay alive until then...

The male protagonist was the Captain of the ship he was currently aboard, a prince of his human kingdom, and a fairly handsome guy, who always seemed to mistake Ira for someone else. The last time they had met, the guy told him to run off to the kitchen and make the food.

Ira was legitimately worried for himself. But it was par for the course, this trouble the male lead had in recognizing faces would be what leant some drama to the story. 

Otherwise it would be too easy, and we couldn't have _that_ , could we?

A shout cut through the air from the look-out. Ira turned slightly, just enough to see the young boy high up above the ship, staring through the binocular with a frozen expression. The boy breathed in deeply and screamed, in full terror, _"P-Pirates!"_

Finally, some action.

And Ira thought he would have to incite mutiny for something to happen.

He dropped the broom he was holding and went over to the edge of the ship. He could, faintly, see in the distance a ship. Improving his vision, he could see the pirate flag dancing over the other ship.

The Captain ran across the ship as well, to get a good look through the binocular he kept on his person at all times. The man was only a level above Ira and after he had sworn quietly to himself, he looked down at Ira and barked, "What are you doing just standing there?! Get the cannons ready!"

See? He had no idea who Ira was.

Shrugging, Ira wandered off to find the cannons under the deck. Maybe shooting them at a ship would release some of his pent up energy? It was worth a try. he was still in withdrawal from his precious manga and needed something to take out his anger on before he compromised the mission himself. And that was something he simply couldn't do. He did take _some_ pride in his job.

Also, his pay would undoubtedly be cut and that would just add to the problem.

Under the deck was complete and utter chaos. The people were running all over the place, trying to get everything ready and the smell of blood and sweat was especially strong down here. With nary a thought, Ira turned off his ability smell anything at all and was pleased to note that it helped immensely.

He shoved his way through the mess of people and made his way to a cannon. After a brief grimace, he helped push into place and took the place of the aimer. You know, the one that would light the thread.

The guy, a very ugly guy, that was carrying over cannonballs looked Ira over shrewdly. "What are you doing down here? Shouldn't you be up on the deck?"

Look at that. An actually intelligent guy. Ira felt so proud. "The Captain ordered me to help with the cannons. And besides, I thought you needed all the help you could get after the last battle. Didn't four of your men die?"

"Six of them." the man grumbled, but didn't make Ira move. Ira counted it as a victory.

Now he got to shoot _cannonballs_.

He should do missions like this more often.

As the pirate-ship got closer, the people with the cannons loaded the cannonballs and waited for the Captain's order to shoot. Ira felt a grin pull at his lips in waiting of the carnage to come. It would be absolutely _glorious_.

Ah, blood. Was there anything better than to spill it?

They got the order to shoot, and without waiting for anyone else to object to interject with ideas, Ira aimed at the oncoming ship, and set fire to the thread. It fizzled its way down and a boom shook the cannon as the cannonball flew away. Ira watched gleefully as it hit the other ship, tearing through the main mast and knocking it over.

Another ball was inputted in the cannon and Ira lit it up again. Again, he hit the ship as it fired back with cannons of its own. He could feel their ship get hit, but knew it was nothing to worry about. This wasn't the moment when it sank.

Instead of worrying about it needlessly, he returned fire with a fervor that was probably a sign of psychopathic tendencies.

Not that that bothered him.

Eventually, unfortunately, the battle died down with the pirates defeated and floating in the water. The ones that didn't just die, that was.

As a ship full of noble naval officers, the pirates that were still alive were dutifully fished out of the waters and placed in the brig. They would be transported back to land where they would be tried for their crimes and then summarily executed. That was always what happened to pirates that were caught. Unless, of course, they managed to escape.

Maybe Ira should help with that...

He was bored. So, so bored. This battle was the first interesting thing to happen since he entered this world.

And there were still weeks to go until that storm.

Damn it all.

As the battle was over and repairs were ongoing, Ira was once again back on the deck, slowly lugging around a mop and some water. Without any effort put into it whatsoever, he dragged the mop across the floor and watched the semi-clean line that was revealed after it. Then someone stepped on it and the floor was covered in filth again.

Yeah, he definitely had psychopathic tendencies.

Keeping his murderous thoughts under lock and key, he walked over the deck with the mop flailing after him. Occasionally, he shoved it in the water and then repeated the action.

He could honestly not tell the difference.

The sun was still shining down on them all unceasingly.

As night approached, the coldness set in and the various members of the crew retreated to under the deck for some protection from it. Candles and oil-lamps were lit up as the ship descended into darkness and above them, a map of stars was revealed. The navigation officer immediately checked their position against his maps while Ira marveled at the amazing view. The moon was full and took up what seemed like a whole quarter of the sky.

Ira sat back against the edge of the ship, enjoying the view and covered in a blanket he had stolen from the Captain's quarters. So far, no-one had caught onto the fact.

As he had gotten into the habit of spending his nights, he recalled a book in his memory and read it in his mind. Before long, he felt sleep summon him and he was glad to comply. Somehow, the world had gotten duller since his last mission, but he didn't know why. It was odd, and he didn't like it.

Just as sleep was about to take over his thoughts, beautiful voices resounded in his mind.

_come... seek us... come... seek us... come... seek us..._

Mermaids. Of course there were mermaids nearby. That was how the mermaid princess fell in love with the Captain, she followed them for months, staring up at him through the waters. Obviously, others must have come to see what all the fuss was about.

He could already hear the panic below the deck as people woke up from their sleep, already in the process of climbing out the openings for cannons if they could fit.

That was the thing.

These weren't the mermaids so popular in fiction and fairytales. No, _these_ were bloodthirsty predators whose preferred food were humans. Honestly, he didn't really get how the princess could fall in love with the male protagonist. There must be something quite special about the Captain. Or something wrong with the princess.

One or the other. Or maybe both.

Ira couldn't care less.

He could hear some hit the water, and with his advanced hearing, he heard the orders frantically being barked. But, luckily for them, no-one was stupid enough to go after the enthralled human that had jumped overboard. Undoubtedly, the human was already being devoured.

The voices continued their pleading until dawn.

By the time the ship rose, Ira was well-rested and ready to take on the comping day. Or, more precisely, fake his way throughout and be as lazy as he could be.

In the end, five members of the crew had jumped overboard, enthralled by the mermaids, and the rest of the crew had apparently had to tie themselves down to prevent anyone from following. It was a shame that Ira had missed that sight. As the crew shuffled into the light, it was easy to see that they hadn't gotten any sleep, all of them looking absolutely exhausted down to their bones.

Ira shuffled over to his mop and broom and after some contemplation, picked up the broom to begin his routine of avoiding his duties. Unlike the rest of the crew, he had slept very well.

Really, they were such weaklings.


	23. 3.2

Ira yawned and blinked sleepily at the sea surrounding him. On the edge of the horizon, black clouds were rolling in.

He almost felt like laughing in victory.

It was time for The Storm.

This was the storm during which the ship sank and the Captain was saved by the mermaid princess, who dragged him off to shore on the mainland where she stayed with him until he woke up. But his memories of her would be faint as she would get back in the water once he was better. Due to this, he would confuse her with a noble's daughter and start courting that girl instead.

In complete refusal to give up the man she loved to someone of, you know, the same species, she ran away from home to a Sea Witch, where she got legs and lost the ability to make any sound at all in exchange for them.

On the ship, the crew were frantically preparing for the storm. The people were tying everything they could and what they couldn't, they nailed down. All that could be removed from the deck were. All the sails were rolled up and put away so they wouldn't blow the ship even further off course or tear.

While everybody else was panicking, Ira took the opportunity to check up on his Host.

Far below the surface of the sea, deep, deep down into the complete darkness that was the bottom of it, was the sparkling city of Atlantis. This was the pride and most well-guarded secret of the merpeople.

This was where the King and his family lived.

It was also where his Host was currently located.

Calling it a city, though, led the way to some confusion. It wasn't a city in the human manner. There were no roads, no paths, no shops and streets. No, it was spread out over many many miles in the sea, in underground caves and mountains, over corral reefs and resting grounds. The only color came from the glowing creatures that thrived down there.

His Host was currently tending to the princess, like she was supposed to . From what he had seen, that duty mostly started and ended with keeping an eye on the princess. She wasn't required to serve her every need or get her food or anything. No she was just to always be present so in the event of danger, she could be a mer-shield.

Like all mermaids, she possessed an otherworldly beauty, which was to be expected. After all, mermaids got most of their food by luring gullible humans into the waters, and the easiest way to do that was to just be pretty. Humans could never resist pretty things.

Before the worst of the storm came the rain. It was a heavy cold thing that rained down on them with no regard for their feelings on the matter.

Ira thought it was wonderful, and stayed outside on the deck for as long as he could. Well, technically, it was also his duty as the Captain had told him without hesitation. He had tied himself to one of the masts of the ship, but he didn't know how long it would hold. Not like it mattered.

He was fully prepared to move to a new body after this one died.

After the rain came the winds.

With the winds came the waves and with the waves came dangerous levels of water. Fairly soon, the ship was like a rollercoaster, swinging this way and that. It rose and fell at an alarming speed.

One of the masts broke when a wave crashed right into it.

Things just went downhill after that.

As Ira had known it would, eventually, the ship capsized and started sinking. Those who could jumped ship, but Ira was tied to it and he didn't feel like untying himself when he knew that he couldn't swing anyway. What a waste of energy. He watched as the others frantically swam for the surface, only to be downed again and again by the vicious waves.

The sensation of drowning was an odd one.

He had turned his ability to feel pain off in preparation for it, but it was still strange to feel it.His lungs filling with water, the inability to breathe.

The darkness that crept into the edges of his vision.

In the water, the unmistakable sounds of the voices of the merpeople started surrounding the people of the drowned ship. On his map, there were at least half-a-dozen merpeople coming closer, and even more approaching. And it was no wonder why. This was essentially a free buffet.

He could see, with his physical eyes, as a roaming figure, moving at speeds simply impossible for a human, approached him with an alarming velocity. So this body would be food for a mer? Well, who cared about that.

His eyes started fluttering closed as the lack of air finally set in, and it was only his curiosity of which mer would eat him that kept him from abandoning the body immediately. He would automatically exit it when it died anyway and it wasn't like he could actually fall unconscious. Once this body did, he would still be aware of the rest of the world by way of his sensors as a system.

The last thing he saw, before this body lost the ability to see anything at all, was a face that was so inhuman it was eerie, and yet it was still undoubtedly beautiful. It belonged to, if he wasn't wrong, a merman.

In his mind, Ira could see as the merman swam ever closer, until he was directly in front of him. Curious, Ira stayed put in the unconscious — well on the way to dead — body, and watched as the merman gripped Ira's temporary body. The merman twisted his face this way and that, and rested its claws over his neck pulse. Staying calm despite the apparent danger his body was in, Ira observed as the merman tore him loose from the rope and slotted its mouth over his. Suddenly, the body he was possessing breathed in a mouthful of air and Ira could feel a faint thread of consciousness return before he abruptly lost it again.

Figuring that there was nothing more he could do, he turned off his perception of the outside world and let oblivion claim him.

When he awoke, it was to complete darkness.

Ira squinted around himself, but he couldn't see a thing. With a hiss of frustration he improved his vision until he could begin to make out his surroundings. He appeared to be in a cave of some sort.

As he glanced around himself to take it all in, he spared some attention to check up on his Host, who was swimming in the water surrounding the land where the Captain had been deposited.

His Host looked utterly miserable.

His stomach made an odd growling noise just as he was about to check up on the Captain and he abandoned the thought in favor of wondering if the cave held any food, or if he would now starve in it. In that case, it would be better to abandon this body now as he couldn't swim out of the cave, couldn't fish and was completely ignorant on the art of making fire. Obviously he had some studying to do when the mission was over.

Well, he supposed to first thing he should do what see if he could find a way out. He turned on his map and spread his attention to it. There wasn't a single dot near him that signified sentient lifeforms. Nor could he spot a way out of the cave that didn't involve him drowning.

He sighed and cursed his bad luck for getting swept away to an underground cave below the ocean.

Ira laid back on the harsh ground of the cave and closed his eyes. The sound of the water from where it entered the cave filled his head and he relaxed to it easily. He started humming under his breath, for lack of anything better to do.

A loud splash rudely interrupted him.

The map showed a dot, signifying a merman close by. Ira cracked open an eye and stared out into the cave in curiosity. A large fish laid dead on the ground near the edge of the water. Another splash and one more wish flew through the air to land next to the last one. Ira sat up and couldn't quite manage to keep the amusement out of his voice when he said,

"That's all well and good, but I have no idea how to cook that. And I can't eat it without fire anyway."

Seaweed were thrown out of the waters to land next to the fish. Ira rose an eyebrow. "I still can't cook."

A frustrated hiss sounded from under the water, causing bubbles to appear on the dark surface.

If Ira wasn't wrong, that was the same merman that had taken him from the sinking ship. Did he intend to keep Ira as a pet? Was he storing him to eat later for emergency rations? The possibilities were endless.

Regardless, Ira would still starve.

Next, clams were thrown out of the water. Out of curiosity, Ira opened one and found a lovely pearl sitting inside. He really couldn't stop himself from smiling now. "That's sweet of you, but I don't like clams. The pearl is pretty though."

The next clam hit his head. Ira laughed before he could stop himself. Trying to keep his giggles under control, he squinted into the waters and found nothing.

"I should just ditch this body."

The next thing to emerge from the ocean was the upper body of the merman as he burst out of the water, clearly aiming for him. Ira jumped back, startled, and watched as the merman landed on the ground and hissed at him furiously.

The scales that were scattered over the pale body were dark green in color, and he couldn't help but notice the wicked looking claws that tipped off the fingers. Gills were on the side of the neck, and the eyes were reptilian looking, with slitted pupils. When he hissed, he revealed pointy teeth that looked as if they could easily rip out Ira's throat. The long black hair extended all the way down to past his waist, clumping together now that it was out of the water and tied back from his face with something green. Seaweed? Sea grass? Something like that.

He was absolutely breathtaking.

A clawed hand grabbed a hold of one of Ira's feet and with an amazing show of strength, the merman threw him into the cold and dark water. Ira flailed through the air before he hit the water, at which point he rapidly began sinking.

Clawing through it, he felt himself losing air. Before he could begin the process of switching bodies, he was pulled back out of the water by the merman.

Deposited back on the ground of the cave, Ira sputtered as he spit out the water he had accidentally swallowed. He was absolutely drenched and started freezing almost immediately. Irritated, he switched off the ability to feel temperatures and growled at the merman that was staring at him with a pair of pale golden eyes. He looked way too satisfied.

"Don't do that. I can't swim, you idiot." Ira snapped at him.

The merman radiated smugness as he clawed his way closer and pulled himself further out of the water. As it was closer, Ira could see that his eyebrows were made of many small scales.

Ira narrowed his eyes at him. "Don't you dare come any closer."

The merman grinned at him with a mouth full of deadly fangs and continued crawling forwards. Ira stepped back watched as the tail, the same dark green as the scales, were revealed. It was a big, heavy looking thing that dripped water. Ira glared at the merman and spit out,

"So? Am I food? A prisoner? What?"

The merman didn't look at him as he held out his hand and flames erupted from it. Ira's eyes widened in surprise and he stepped closer before he realized it. Before he could step back again, the merman dragged him down to the floor of the cave and pressed his mouth to Ira's. This time, it wasn't to give him air.

Come to think of it, this soul... it was familiar. Where had he met it before?

 


	24. 3.3

Ira spent the days sleeping and watching the drama that was his Host and her mission. The merman had managed to find wood, probably from a shipwreck, and brought it back to Ira so he could light a fire and avoid death by hypothermia. He kept track of time by his internal clock, that was correct down to the millisecond, but there was no place that he needed to be, so he didn't change bodies. His Host's mission was literally to die, there was no reason for Ira to be present to make sure it went according to plan. 

If he had to help his Host when the mission was to simply die, they would never make it anyway.

The bed Ira had messily fashioned for himself was made of seaweed that the merman had gotten him, not so much braided together as just twined around and around. At the very least, it was more comfortable to sleep on than the cold ground.

As there wasn't much to do in the underground cave, Ira spent most of his time observing his Host. Thankfully, despite the fact that she was a teenager (he held out hope that the next one would be an adult) she was smarter than his previous Host and nowhere near as clumsy. At some point, that behavior just made him straight-out homicidal.

During the days that had passed since the shipwreck, his Host had been swimming around in the sea near where the Captain had ended up, with a rather serious head injury to boot. That meant that the mermaid princess had stayed to nurse him back to health.

His Host spent most of her time chasing after the princess, or sighing and cursing her fate. It appeared that the idea of dying for the mission didn't appeal to her. Ira didn't understand why, if she died successfully, she would succeed the mission, and be out of  the Tutorial Mode and receive missions with a higher degree of difficulty. Which couldn't be achieved by just dying.

Turning around on his makeshift bed so he didn't get a bad back, Ira ignored what was in front of him in favor of watching his Host pace in the water while nervously waiting for the mermaid princess to return. Just the other day, the princess' father — that is, the King — had found out what his daughter was up to and been predictably furious. Not only was she literally playing with her food, she was putting herself in needless danger. When mermaids were caught, they weren't kept as pets. No, they were straight-out killed, because nobody sane wanted a pet that would eat you the first chance it got. 

So to say that his Host was panicking because the King was _Not Happy_ with her was an understatement. She was honestly considering just kidnapping the princess and dragging her back to her father if her mumbling was to be taken seriously.

An annoyed hiss dragged him out of his thoughts and he zoned back into his physical vision to the sight of the merman lying on the ground next to the water, more seaweed in his clawed hands. Not that that was going to change the fact that he was literally hours away from dying, due to starvation and dehydration, considering that there was no drinking water around. He hadn't told the merman because he didn't think it mattered.

Ira had already picked out a new body in the prince captain's court. That way he would once again be in the same area as the main characters and not be accused of not doing his job seriously. 

It was always a drag, defending himself from such true accusations.

There was so little strength left in this body that he couldn't even get off the bed and greet the merman like they clearly wanted him to. Or so it seemed, by the hissing. Now, Ira was a system, there wasn't a language in all of universes that he couldn't understand, but where was the fun in that? It was more amusing to guess what the merman wanted.

Especially when he got it wrong, the merman made such hilarious expressions then.

A part of him was going to miss the merman when he switched bodies. He wondered why. Was this what humans called friendship? 

He kind of liked it.

As the seconds ticked by and then the minutes, Ira felt calmer and calmer as his heart slowed down to a sluggish degree and he found it hard to keep his eyes open. Things were beginning to blur before him. This should probably be an uncomfortable experience, but Ira had turned off his ability to feel those things in preparation.

The more he blinked, the more suspicious the merman looked. As his vision failed him once more and he abandoned it in favor of his system sensors, he watched as the merman crawled closer to his body and appeared to wonder what was wrong.

Was the merman going to eat him? Ira really wanted to know.

His heart stopped.

Ira left the body that was now only a cooling corpse in a cave, never to be found.

They observed as the merman appeared to panic, shaking the corpse and trying to get it to wake up. When he realized it wasn't going to, that there was nothing in there, he looked around as if he would be able to see Ira.

Ira wandered around him in their incorporeal state and rose what could pass for an eyebrow. So the merman _wasn't_ going to eat the body? What a disappointment. Ira would have really wanted to see that. Well, nothing more to it. The kisses were nice and all, but they had things to be doing and things were about to start heating up.

With a last look at the increasingly furious looking merman, Ira set off to find their new body.

The new body was that of a servant in service to the royalty.

Ira got to live in an actual castle, not that far off from the ocean, and he got to wear that cool butler uniform that he had seen in Kuroshitsuji. Being nothing but a servant, and from a perfectly ordinary family at that, he was essentially invisible to anybody even remotely important. If he wasn't who he was, he might be offended, but as it was, he was mostly amused.

A few days after he had switched body's, the Captain returned to the castle with hardly any memory of the woman that had saved him, but a feeling of deep gratitude to her. A day after that, he got engaged to a noble girl that had a passing similarity in looks to the mermaid princess. If you ignored that they belonged to two different species, that was.

Watching the Captain trying to woo what was a painfully shy noble girl that had already been engaged since childhood was hilarious. Watching the Captain becoming frustrated because she wouldn't say anything about saving him was even more so.

And then there was the mermaid princess.

The princess was absolutely furious with the Captain, because in his delirium, the man had promised to marry her as thank you for saving him and if there was one thing that merpeople took seriously, it was promises. So with every time the princess saw him with that noble girl, her rage only increased, until finally the camel's back broke and she defied her father's will and set off to find the Sea Witch.

Because Ira was a curious being and he had never denied it, he watched as she searched for the Sea Witch.

Ira actually stopped what he was doing and blinked a few times too many in surprise when he found out that the Sea Witch was the same merman that had found him and dragged him to that cave.

He did not see that coming. Now, _this_ was fun.

For the sake of even more fun, he didn't turn off his ability to understand the merpeople's language that he had done the whole time in the presence of the merman and instead shamelessly listened in to what they said.

The mermaid princess squared her shoulders and tried to look as intimidating as possible. It didn't really work when in the presence of someone as otherworldly as Ira's merman. She breathed in water and demanded, "I need legs."

"Absolutely, Your Highness. Would you like just the legs or them attached to something? And fresh ones or decomposed ones?" the Sea Witch promptly answered without hesitating.

The princess frowned heavily and snapped, "I want legs so I can walk on land, idiot."

"Oh." the merman hummed and swam closer to her. "Now _that_ is interesting. Whatever could you desire on land? A breakfast buffet? But you know how your father will react if he finds out where you've gone. I'm afraid I can't help you. I don't wish to die, you see."

"What's the price?"

The merman smiled, a smile that said that he had just won the whole game. "Your voice."

She gave a mocking laugh. "That's all? I thought you would demand something more precious. Fine, then. My voice is yours. Now get me legs I can use."

"A deal has been struck. A deal shall be honored."

The merman's hand grabbed a tight hold of the princess' neck and with a hiss, it became almost transparent, where it then passed right through her throat and returned holding what was unmistakably her vocal chords. When he let her go and his hand returned to normal, he had already bottled the vocal chords and he gazed upon the princess like a predator who had just eaten its prey. He threw her a pitch-black bottle.

"You'll want to get to land before you drink that."

She glared at the merman all the way through the motions of picking up the bottle and running away. As she did so, she collected his Host that had waited outside the same way one does luggage.

Ira continued his servant duties on autopilot as he watched as his Host trailed after the mermaid princess with a hesitant expression on her inhuman face. Regardless, she still followed closely behind, all the way to the land where the Captain's castle dwelled.

When they arrived and had crawled their way up a beach until they were only partially in the water, the princess drank the majority of the content in the bottle and thrust the bottle in his Host's direction. His Host seemed to be shaking with both anticipation and dread as she took it and swallowed the little that was left.

The change was ugly, and downright unnatural.

It looked painful the way torture did and while the mermaid princess had no voice, his Host did and she _screamed_. 

Ira felt the distinct urge to cackle like a madman.

He knew there was a reason he liked that merman. 

Smiling, he preformed his duties with more flair as he observed with half of his mind as his Host and the mermaid princess both passed out from the sheer amount of pain of the transformation.  After all, not only did they gain legs, they gained the ability to breathe purely through the air, and lost the ability to breathe in water.

That was quite a lot of internal change. He wondered if either of them would be able to procreate now or if they had lost the ability. In both forms.

Some people caught sight of the two naked woman lying on the beach passed out and called for help. A whole mass of people came to see what the fuss was about and by the time the women were carted off by the town guards, a lot of people had seen them naked, which didn't do anything good for their reputations. People could be so judgmental when they didn't know the whole story.

Ira contained his urge to laugh and instead cast about his attention to the Captain. He was once again in the middle of a date with the noble girl. And he was becoming evermore frustrated. 

Who would ever guess that the noble girl was the assassin that would accidentally kill the mermaid princess?

 


	25. 3.4

The mermaid princess and his Host were released from the holding cell the following morning. His Host had made up a story of how they had been caught up in a shipwreck and lost their clothes to the fish. Despite the very obvious lies in the story, it was accepted due to their beauty. While they now looked human, they were still far more attractive than the average women.

After they were released from the cell and had left the building, the reality of the situation finally set it. They had no money, no clothes, no human skills, no home and no family to depend on. They had also lost the strength being mermaids gave them.

Essentially, they had become easy prey.

Showcasing that she wasn't an absolute fool like his last Host, his Host started inquiring anybody she met if they knew any place that would hire them. Most people recommended the brothels.

One of them though, remarked that the castle might be hiring more maids. Looking like all of their problems had been solved, his Host and the mermaid princess immediately set off to find it. The fact that neither of them knew what maids actually _did_ , didn't seem to bother them much.

Ira watched on with amusement as they finally arried at the castle gates, both of them panting and trembling from sheer exhaustion. This was, after all, the first time those legs were ever used.

Naturally, they weren't up to the task of walking for two hours up a hill.

Ira got some weird looks from the people that saw him giggling to himself.

With the amusement giving him energy, he automatically went about his job in the laziest manner possible, not that anybody could tell, because they very much didn't care about him. In his mind, he could see as his Host and the mermaid princess were taken to the Head Maid's office in another wing apart from Ira. He could tell that the mermaid looked down on the stern old woman that met her sight from the moment she saw her. And the Head Maid could see it too.

Knowing absolutely nothing about human customs and social rules, the only thing that saved the mermaid princess from being thrown out on her ass was the fact that his Host was doing all of the talking.

Even then, it was plainly visible on her face that she hated the fact that they had to literally beg for a job. Which was really only to be expected, given that they had no useful skills at all.

While Ira was whistling to himself in a genuinly good mood, his Host was trying desperately to prevent the mermaid princess from murdering their new employer.

Quite a lot of people saw him laughing to himself.

With the mermaid princess working in the castle, the plot of the story had officially begun. Through a serious of non-coincidences, she met up with the Captain on multiple occasions. Unfortunately, without the ability to speak, the only thing to catch his attention was her beauty, and that wasn't enough for him to betray his supposed savior. And she couldn't tell him that she had been the one to save him.

His Host could tell him the truth, but evidently, this occured to nobody.

Ira wasn't surprised.

Meanwhile, down deep below the ocean's surface, the Sea Witch followed a string of  magic towards the shore on which the castle dwelled. Ira assumed it was because they wanted to observe as the mermaid princess failed.

Seeing the Sea Witch approaching the shore gave Ira an odd feeling in his chest. It was a mix between the simple joy he felt when his Hosts were miserable, and the comfort he had felt in the cave before he switched body's. It brought forth to mind the simplicity of being in Silas' company, for some strange reason. Ira didn't understand it, so he gave it no further thought. Perhaps, though, when the merman arrived, he would go greet him if he could?

It would be sort of nice to see him again.

As Ira didn't care about his duties, he went about business the same manner as usual, even with his Host in the same building. He sneaked into the royal library to read during his work hours and sneaked out the books he especially liked to take back to his quarters. As a servant, he lived in the dorms for the male servants in the castle. He had to share his room with another man, but he had it covered. The guy no longer dared to touch Ira's things.

He could also no longer see out of one of his eyes, but really, that was just a coincidence. Ira had had nothing to do with it.

Honestly.

It was a full three weeks after having started working at the castle that the mermaid princess began her attempts to murder the noble girl.

This was, as could easily be guessed, due to her jealousy.

However, regardless of the reason why, the fact was that she was trying to kill the woman the crown prince of the nation was currently courting. This could be seen as a sign of treason.

Luckily, she was the protagonist of the story and thus didn't need to follow the law, because nobody figured out it was her doing. They were always too destracted by her beauty. Because of this, another servant girl was blamed for it all and, two months after the mermaid princess left the sea, she was executed for her supposed crimes.

Thankfully, the people of this nation considered themselves to be very humane, so they kept the guillotine's blade sharp. It was a very quick death.

Much, much better then some other unfortunate botched executions he had witnessed in his time. Some of them very hilarious.

When was the last time you saw a guy starving to death after having been hung? Or people panic when the fire didn't start as they were burning a witch at the stake, because some idiot hadn't checked to see if the straw was actually dry?

Yeah, Ira had seen some weird things in his many years of life.

As was to be expected, when her attempts to get closer to the prince failed, the mermaid princess only got more and more furious. Her duties in the castle went unfulfilled as she didn't see the point in them, and her attention was more focused on following the prince around, waiting for a good moment to "accidentally" bump into him.

Like anybody was going to believe that.

The Queen of the nation, that is, the prince's mother, was no stranger to servant girls trying to get the prince's attention and did what she always did in such situations. She sent her son to sea on navy duty while she set about to find something to fire the girl for. This did not require much effort.

Just a few months after the mermaid princess had gone to land, she was fired from her job. Thankfully, she was in the company of his Host, who proved to actually have brains when she managed to get the mermaid princess another job in castle. To be precise, she would be cleaning the horse stalls. 

Ira actually paid her a visit while she was there, not that she even noticed him, and had a good laugh about it.

The Sea Witch found himself at the edge of the land upon which his Host and the mermaid princess currently dwelled without any trouble at all. Ira tended to observe him when he was bored and nothing else interesting was happening. From what he could see, the Sea Witch had found a cave to hang out in and had no intention of going anywhere else. the urge to visit, oddly enough, kept on growing.

Half-a-year since the mermaid princess first took her steps on land, Ira finally decided that he was going to find out what this odd feeling was and went to visit the Sea Witch. After dropping a bucket of water on top of the mermaid princess, because why not?

She made an absolutely hilarious face.

The cave wasn't hard to find, although it was a pain to get to the entrance from land. thankfully it didn't require swimming skills or Ira would have given up then and there.

As it was, it still took him a lot of awkward climbing and walking through water until he was finally inside it. Ira sharpened his vision in response to the darkness and ventured deeper still. A feeling of anticipation was burning in his stomach and he didn't know why.

Ira had read numerous yaoi manga (that was apparently what it was called) during his time between the missions. He had tried his best to study them seriously, but then he got pulled into great stories like Ten Count and Honto Yajuu, and things kind of devolved from there. Regardless, he now had theoretical knowledge of how male same-sex relationships worked. Still, he was unsure how this corresponded to reality and so felt the need to try it out. Not actually sex, because the idea was kind of gross, but other stuff.

Like the stuff he had done with Silas. He still had to test if it only felt like that with Silas.

Ira was actually entertaining the idea of taking a mission in a BL world one of these days. It could be fun. He hadn't before because he hadn't understood what BL stood for, but now that he did, the idea got more attractive the more he pondered at it.

But it'd have to wait until he got a male a Host. Or could he stick a female Host in a male body? A thought worth investigating.

He exited the tunnel to find himself in an open space with a fairly low ceiling that he had seen plenty of times when he was spying on the Sea Witch. Magical lights were hanging from the ceiling, lighting up the otherwise entirely dark room and Ira watched it all with wide eyes. It was beautiful.

He thought that maybe he felt his heart skip a beat, but didn't dwell on it. It didn't mean anything.

The Sea Witch that Ira had found himself oddly attached too, sat in the middle of the cave, the gleaming tail disappearing down into the clear waters. Ira edged closer without any regard for personal safety, because frankly, he didn't care. The lights from the ceiling were glittering on the tail and it looked utterly fascinating.

He seamlessly took a picture of it in his mind and saved it. Who knew what use it would come to have.

The Sea Witch caught sight of him when he approached rather fearlessly, and he saw the moment that he realized there was a human in the cave with him. 

In the interest of communication — because he wanted to take more pictures, and that would be a little bit more difficult if he was dead — Ira kept the ability to understand the merpeople's language on. He walked up on dry land and bent down as he came too close to the ceiling. 

He didn't want to disturb those pretty lights.

Once he half-stood in front of the merman, Ira searched his head for something to say and came up with the genius phrase of, "Hey."

He deserved an award or something.

While Ira was currently dying inside from sheer embarrassment, the merman moved closer to Ira as well. Ira had the feeling of magic searching through him and absentmindedly batted it away. This, for some reason, made the merman's eyes widen and he crawled even closer. 

"You are back." 

Ira tilted his head a little in confusion. What was the merman talking about now? This was what happened when you went years without communicating with anyone.

He took a wild guess and said, "Yes."

Should he sign up for some kind of class or something to improve his communication skills? That was a thing, right? He felt like he should.

But it sounded _so_ boring.

And some of the best entertainment arose from misunderstandings.

The merman took a hold of his wrist and pulled him down until Ira was sitting right next to him. By this point, Ira had already taken about two dozen pictures in his mind.

Well, a few more dozen pictures wouldn't hurt.

 


	26. 3.5

Ira stayed in the cave with the Sea Witch the entire night.

After a while, he got tired of sitting without any support and so leaned back against the merman. He didn't know why this was a feeling he enjoyed, but he did, so he didn't question it. The merman held him around his waist and Ira took a couple of pictures of them together just for the hell of it.

It was as midnight approached that Ira considered that maybe it was time to go back to the castle so he could sleep. But before he could untangle himself from the merman's limbs, the Sea Witch grabbed a hold of his face, bent it back and kissed him before Ira could protest.

It was a nice kiss. 

Ira moaned into it before he could stop himself.

Twisting around, he settled down on his knees on top of the merman's tail, enjoying the feeling of being kissed by such a skilled soul. 

There was a sensation to it that was familiar and it reminded him, somehow, of Silas, but Ira wasn't in the mind to dwell on it. He had more important things to worry about. Like if he could suffocate from kissing. 

It was a valid concern.

Regardless, the kissing was nice and he let himself relax into it. It got progressively deeper and more languid as it went along and Ira found that he liked it. Silas had always kissed him aggressively, like he was afraid he would disappear, but this slow kissing was nice too. He had the feeling that he was on the way to getting used to it.

Well, whatever. He was ridiculously old. If he wanted to try out this whole relationship thing, he was very much allowed to.

Eventually, the kissing ceased as Ira's body got sleepier and in the end, he fell asleep on top of the merman. When he woke up the next morning, he was surprised to find himself still on top of him. He would have thought that he'd be dumped in the ocean for daring to sleep on top of him.

As they were deep in a cave, the only reason he knew it was morning was his internal clock. After some yawning and grumbling about how he didn't like his job, he untangled himself from the merman and started crawling along the cave floor. He heard the merman shifting behind him and then the sound of a splash as they jumped back into the waters.

Ira carefully made his way through the cave, until he was finally out of it. When he was, he saw the merman again as they appeared out of the water right next to him.

"Come back."

Ira tilted his head and nodded. "Mhm. I'll come back."

Then he started the annoying trip back to the castle.

Nothing of any interest had occurred while he was away. The mermaid princess and his Host were doing their jobs, one with more hatred than the other. The Captain was still out to sea and wasn't set to return for another two weeks, which gave Ira plenty of time to slack off and go visit the merman. 

So that was what he did.

During the next two weeks, he spent every night with the merman. Things didn't progress beyond kissing, and weirdly enough, sometimes not even that, but Ira was content.

It was relaxing and fun and he enjoyed it.

Eventually, though, the Captain came back to the castle and Ira couldn't come to the cave as often. In a rare display of kindness, he told this to the merman instead of just disappearing mysteriously.

Somehow, though, this seemed not to reassure him.

Ira shrugged and decided not to worry about it.

For the next several days, he watched as the mermaid princess persisted in her efforts to gain the prince's attention in increasingly weird ways. Once, she even let all of the horses out of the stables and ran off in the midst of a pretend panic. It took the prince four hours to figure out what she wanted, as she could neither speak nor write and his Host was off actually doing her job in another part of the castle.

When the horses were finally all collected and the matter had been resolved, she was once again not punished, but a young stableboy was instead. He got quite a lot of lashes and had to spend a month in the dungeons. 

At least he wasn't executed?

Well, whatever. 

Regardless, Ira got to see some very funny things while he slacked off from his work, one of which was his Host having to run away from a pair of vicious guard dogs.

She had to stay waiting in a tree for five hours before someone heard her desperate screams and saved her. He had very dutifully recorded the entire ordeal and couldn't wait to show it off to his colleagues. 

The Head Maid had given him a very concerned look when she caught him bursting into laughter right out of the blue. Thankfully, aside from a few pointed questions about his mental health, she didn't make a big deal out of it and Ira went on with life the same as usual. 

With the prince back in the castle, things started moving again. The prince continued his futile efforts in wooing the noble girl turned assassin, his Host showcased that she had a brain by not getting involved with him and the mermaid princess got increasingly furious. She had started to slack off on her job again, believing herself to be above mucking shit. 

This, of course, did not sit well with the other people working with the horses and she got lectured and yelled at at increasing intervals.

The fact that she refused to change her behavior did not say good things about her.

At this point, Ira had ceased doing his job entirely. Nobody noticed him whether he did it or not, so he didn't see why he should put in all that effort. Instead, he spent his time lazying about on any soft surface he could find, while leaving the cleaning to other people. 

For some reason, nobody told him off for this.

The magic of the mob character.

So invisible they don't even get blamed for not doing their jobs purposefully.

Under the sea, in Atlantis, the mer King had found out what his wayward daughter was up to and he was absolutely pissed off. Unlike his stupid daughter, he knew that all magic came with a price and that it was never as simple as it first appeared. There was of course also the fact that his daughter had abandoned all of her duties without notifying anybody at all.

It was like she didn't get that royalty had a responsibility to the people they ruled.

Otherwise the people rebelled and the royalty got offed by their own citizens.

And nobody wanted _that_.

Well, nobody but the mermaid princess apparently.

Unfortunately, for all his rage, there wasn't much that the mer king could do when he was stuck in the water and his daughter on land, so she continued on unstopped and unchecked. Ira watched as she engineered more and more ridiculous meetings with the Captain and felt like he could die laughing a few times.

Some were just so ridiculous it was downright awkward.

By the time she jumped down from a balcony straight into the surprised prince's arms, Ira was honestly worried for the future of this nation.

Because it was working.

The prince was actually falling for the very obvious tricks and the fact that she couldn't speak just helped. It made her more mysterious and pitiful, awakening his instinct to protect her, despite the fact that she was much more dangerous than he could ever hope to be.

Together with the frustrations that was caused by the fact that the noble girl was completely unresponsive to his affections, they only got closer.

It was absolutely _nauseating_ to watch.

Ira felt like bleaching his eyes, but there was no bleach in this world, so he had to just deal with it. It sucked.

As was common in situations such as these, when they finally got closer, they got closer at an unrealistically fast rate. Within weeks, the prince told the mermaid princess that he loved her and wanted to marry her. Likewise, the mermaid princess finally figured out that his Host could relay messages for her and told him she loved him too.

There engagement was then promptly declared to the world.

In a matter of days.

Was it wrong of Ira to want to kill them? What the hell happened? Where did the Captain's love for the noble girl go? His acknowledgement of his duties? His respect for his mother, who really didn't like the servant girl her son suddenly wanted to marry?

It would be more believable if he had gotten the mermaid princess pregnant, but that wasn't possible. Ira had done scans on both of them and neither the mermaid princess or his Host were any longer capable of getting pregnant _or_ carrying children. If, by some divine intervention, they did get pregnant, it would only result in miscarriage.

Well, not that they'd believe him if he told them, though.

Similarly, even if they turned back into mermaids, they still would not be able to have any children. The change had simply messed them up too much and reverting it would actually cause _more_ damage.

Maybe even enough to kill them.

One could always hope.

With the engagement proclaimed, a grand feast was held at the castle to celebrate it, inviting a whole ton of foreign royals, diplomats and merchants. It was to be the grandest feast of the decade, if the mermaid princess had anything to say about it.

And of course she did. Because the Captain was so whipped he would believe the sky was green and the grass was blue if she told him so.

Weak-ass pussy.

Still, despite the many preparations that the castle was undergoing for the feast, Ira's lack of a job didn't change. Oddly enough, he still got paid.

He continued his lazying about, reading any book he could find that seemed interesting. Sadly, there weren't a lot of those, so most of the time he had to settle for subpar books that made him want to set them on fire. That was how much they sucked.

Maybe make a bonfire out of it...

It was supposed to be romantic or something, right? Perhaps he could invite his merman and they could do some more of that kissing thing.

That would be nice.

Meanwhile, the Queen of the human nation he was currently living in was so far past furious she was essentially just a large ball of rage right now. She couldn't believe that her son would disregard her words so easily, as if she didn't raise him to be a good king, to be above this kind of emotional manipulation. As if he didn't love her enough to pick her, when she had raised him on her own while ruling a country after his father passed.

She couldn't believe the complete and utter lack of respect.

Or so Ira interpreted her various mumblings and rantings when she thought she was alone in her room, but had just somehow missed Ira hanging out on her bed.

Hey, it was a nice bed. Much, much nicer than his.

So sue him. He'd win.

Occasionally, Ira checked up on the merman, but they were always doing some sort of complicated magic and stuff he couldn't be bothered to find out more about, so he settled with just looking. He _was_ very beautiful.

It was an otherworldly sort of beautiful that Ira quite liked.

After spending a few short seconds pondering the subject, he had figured the merman's soul was probably really similar to Silas', and that was why he seemed so familiar.

It was also possible that he was an incarnation of Silas, but Ira didn't care enough to find out for sure. Besides, just because it was the same soul, it didn't mean that Silas was in there somewhere. It could very well be an earlier incarnation.

Or a much, much later one. Regardless, it didn't change anything, so Ira put it out of his mind.

He still had a — getting progressively more boring — job to do.


	27. 3.6

The morning of the engagement feast, Ira woke up in his own bed feeling refreshed. He had spent the last three days listening to everybody and their mother complaining about all of the work to be done and how unfair it was that the prince was marrying a maid, and so was in a pretty good mood from that alone. It was always fun, listening to insults and slander.

As he had known and dreaded, the engagement feast was a grand event held for all allied royalty and nobles, as well as wealthy merchants. 

After a little contemplation, Ira had decided to attend the event as a waiter, though obviously he would not actually be doing any waiting. He would just be wearing his uniform and stare intensely at anybody that tried to talk to him.

But he would be going to the event because he had the feeling something _fun_ would be happening and he wanted to be there and see it in person.

And also because there was going to be chocolate cake and he wanted it.

Regardless, as the day passed by, the various servants were panicking about everything from the decor to the candles to the wine. Ira really wanted that cake, so when he saw the sheer chaos in the kitchen, he went down there and offered to help out. He wasn't sure of how much use he actually was, considering he had no idea what he was doing, but he saw them making some cakes, so he considered it a job well done.

In his mind, he could see his Host frantically trying to make the mermaid princess look presentable by the current human standards, which unfortunately included a corset that the former mermaid straight-up refused to wear.

There was a lot of hissing going on.

As evening approached with the kind of rapid speed that signified the universe taking amusement out of the suffering of its denizens, Ira sort of just faded into the background. He very slowly wheeled a cart full of plates up to the ballroom, through a lot of winded hallways and narrow corridors, and he delighted in ordering guards to get out of his way when he passed them.

While they might want to disagree with him and some were very clearly angry with him, they couldn't do anything because the ball had to be absolutely perfect, prince's orders. Ira was not above taking shameless advantage of the situation to mock them silly.

Their faces! Pfft!

When the guests of the ball finally started arriving, Ira ventured back to his room in order to change into a fresh uniform newly cleaned with scented soap, as per the Head Maid's orders. Apparently, even the servers had a standard to uphold tonight. 

Who knew?

The ballroom was a chaotic mess with drapes fluttering in the winds through the open windows. The tables were still being placed throughout the room and the servers were frantically running around with heavy chairs in their hands. Smoothly walking in between all of these people looking on the verge of nervous breakdowns, Ira emerged on the other side of the room no worse for wear.

Right next to the table holding the chocolate cake that was the whole reason he was there. Ira glared at it with narrowed eyes to make sure it didn't get stolen from him.

He fully planned to eat until he was full.

Glancing around himself, he grinned and approached the long table at a sedate pace, completely at odds with his fast paced heart and his salivating mouth. He had missed this _so much._

Cutting into the cake, he ignored the people around him that were running at frankly dangerous speeds to get everything ready in time. Most of the guests had already arrived, they were just waiting for the ballroom to be ready now. He grinned even wider as he plopped a big slice of cake onto an otherwise annoyingly clean plate and grabbed a small silver spoon.

Heaven. He was in _heaven_.

By the time he came back to reality, the ballroom was already filling up with guests. 

Blinking a little in surprise, he located his Host, who was in the middle of ferrying towels in another part of the large open room. He shrugged, unconcerned with whatever was happening, and went back to his eating in a slightly hidden corner.

Music came from the stage, a slow beat that was tolerable. Ira let his gaze sweep over the entire ballroom, taking in the small details that belied something other than the wanted perfection.

Honestly, they really should have had more time to put together a ball of this magnitude. Now everything was half-assed in an effort to spare time.

Simply put, it was a mess.

Up on the balcony, looking out over the ballroom, the mermaid princess and her love slave were standing, waiting for the right moment to come out and announce their relationship. Currently, the mermaid princess was doing something weird with her face, presumably in the faking of anxiety and fear, and it really didn't fit her.

It was so fake even the prince's bodyguards could tell and they were very subtly stepping away from the nutcase in their midst.

He almost pitied them. Almost.

Ira grabbed another slice of cake. He nearly moaned from the taste of it, so immersed in it that it took him six bites to realize he could feel a familiar soul in his close vicinity.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around him from behind and a hand snagged the spoon from his fingers and took over feeding him. As he was still getting his chocolate, Ira very much didin't care  who it was that was feeding him, and so made no attempt to escape.

Besides, he knew who those arms belonged too and while he was a little curious about why he was on land, he wasn't opposed to it.

Ira had — as much as it made him grimace in disgust at just the thought of it — missed him.

Just a little bit. The tiniest.

He finished the rest of his chocolate slice in the arms of the only soul he had ever _wanted_ to kiss and while he wondered at how Silas' soul was here, coincidences _did_ happen, even if humans liked to think differently. 

Really, they did.

When the cake was finished, Ira pouted a little in disappointment. He could feel his merman's hot breath strike his ear from behind him and then he heard him speak. It tickled.

"I found you."

Rolling his eyes, Ira answered plainly, "Yes."

The merman in human form just hugged him tighter. Leaning back in the embrace, Ira let his mind wander. His Host was on the other side of the ballroom, staring with stars in her eyes at some insignificant noble and failing in doing her job. The mermaid princess and the prince were still up on the balcony like stuck-up people and the Queen were taking large angry bites out of another cake, just a few meters away from Ira and his unexpected company.

Humming to himself in thought, he saw the way the nobles around them glanced at each other. They were obviously aware that something was going to happen, and they didn't look happy about it.

In their infinite wisdom, they hadn't announced that this was their engagement feast. The guests simply thought it was yet another needlessly extravagant ball to show off their frankly annoying wealth.

They were _not_ happy about it.

Then came the moment that everybody had waited for. The prince called for everyone's attention up on his pretentious balcony.

Ira rolled his eyes again.

"Welcome!" the prince called out in a strong voice. "We thank you all for attending! And now, we have a grand announcement to make!"

The guests stared up at the balcony as a beautiful woman joined the prince's side.

The prince looked smug as he yelled out, "It is my great joy to introduce you all to my wonderful fiancée, Aqualisa!"

The Queen swallowed a whole glass of champagne in a single gulp.

Note that there was no title before her name. That meant that she wasn't nobility of any kind and as any fool could predict, the various distinguished guests did not react well to it. Especially as the prince had, just months earlier, announced his engagement to that noble girl whose name Ira couldn't remember.

Come to think of it, where was she?

Well, whatever. He didn't care.

Angry outbursts came from all over the room, as people voiced their very valid objections. In response, the mermaid princess glared down at them all with a vicious hatred that belied her true feelings.

Not that they were hard to guess in the first place. She wasn't a very good actress.

Like, at all.

At this point, the merman had gotten him a new slice of cake and started feeding him again. Ira was feeling very happy with this and so did not care about how much of a fool his Host were making of herself, where she tried to get the nameless noble's attention. They weren't even especially that good looking.

Was it the money? 

It seemed like it was always the money.

Well, he was recording it, so it didn't really matter if he paid attention now or not. He could revel in her bad luck later.

He finished the new slice of cake and watched on as chaos descended like a mad god on the ballroom. Yells were called out from all over, glasses were thrown on the floor, making the various servants almost go crazy and in the end, the guards had to step in to calm things down. This did not, as one might be able to guess, work out well.

More chaos ravaged the ballroom. Curtains caught on fire. Tables were overturned. Decorated swords went flying with all of the wrath of a scorned woman.

_It was beautiful._

Ira had, by the time the rug was set on fire, relocated to a chair next to the Queen. The Queen was glaring at everybody that made the mistake of catching her eye, and she had already ordered a full three people to be executed. To be fair, they did attempt to murder her.

Next to Ira, the merman was sitting with a tall glass of champagne held loosely in his hand, looking for all the world as if he was at a picnic and not in the middle of what was fast becoming a riot.

Naturally, as Ira did have _some_ positive feelings for him.

Eventually, to Ira's great regret, the guards finally managed to wrestle the people back under control. Not, however, before no less than five of the kingdom's vital supporters were killed in the mess.

At this point, the Queen had drank a whole bottle of champagne, all by herself.

Somehow, she still wasn't drunk.

With the party, sadly, back under control, the guests started leaving, some of them with guards escorting them to dungeons.

They had to be held accountable for the valuable people they killed. Who cared about the twelve servants that were also killed in the chaos? 

Nobody, clearly.

As the ball was coming to an end and Ira had a duty to wheel a bunch of plates back to the kitchen, he turned to the merman and said, "I'll be leaving now."

The merman — now humanoid — stared back at Ira intensely. "Why?"

Ira blinked a little. He hadn't expected the merman to question him. "The ball is over. That means it's time to clean up and sleep."

"Oh."

The merman narrowed his eyes at Ira and he realized they looked very inhuman right now. "You're going to stay here?"

"Yes?" Ira asked, tilting his head. "I work here."

"Good." the merman nodded and their long hair, bound back in a low tail followed. "Then I'll be back."

Ira furrowed his brows and asked, "Huh?"

The merman smirked at him. "Now that I know where you are, you can't expect me to let you go."

Ira just blinked some more.

The merman laughed a little and smiled unfairly gorgeously at him. "You're my treasure. To follow you wherever you go is just common sense."

With a last, quick kiss that was surprisingly chaste, the merman — possibly former — left the ball with a backward wave. Ira sat still on the chair for a few more minutes, thinking, before he decided that it wasn't important and he stood up.

As he left, he waved to the Queen that was still drinking. Confused, she waved back.

 


	28. 3.7

In the aftermath of the engagement feast, the kingdom was in a precarious state. Not only had several high-ranking nobles and merchants ended up dead in the chaos, but the family of the noble girl that was supposed to marry the prince had withdrawn their support of the crown and pulled all of their assets out of the capital.

This lead to an economic crises the likes of which the kingdom hadn't experienced for over two hundred years. It affected everybody from the highest noble to the lowest commoner.

Nobody could escape its suffocating grasp.

Not even the royal family.

Within a month, a third of the castle's staff were let go. Within two, over half of them (including the guards) had lost their jobs. Within three, there was barely a quarter of the original staff remaining.

To be honest, Ira had been one of the very first ones to lose his job, but it wasn't like he was going to let that stop him. He kept on living in the servant's quarters regardless.

Somehow, nobody had caught him.

And he was essentially a trespassing homeless person.

Well, it was their loss. Quite literally. He kept on eating their food and using their stuff, after all.

As the months slowly trudged on, winter set in with an unrelenting chill. Fairly soon, nowhere was safe from the frankly biting cold and Ira did as the rest of the staff and burrowed into a pile of blankets to keep warm. He didn't have to, but he liked the sensation.

It was a little bit like those pillow forts he had read about.

With winter setting in and the economic crisis, a food shortage set in like a crashing tsunami. With a viciousness that the prince had never seen, food stores depleted rapidly until they hardly had anything left and were forced to import it from the neighboring kingdoms. Which effectively emptied out their coffins.

They did get a discount from their allied nations due to the sheer volume of food that they were buying, but even that didn't make a difference in the long run. 

The country was broke.

In the midst of this brutal crisis, the mermaid princess lived a pampered life in the castle, kept ignorant of the outside world and its hardships. This was not, actually, entirely her own fault, but rather the fault of the prince who wished to "protect" her from the ugliness.

As such, she was not made of aware of exactly how dire the situation outside of her doors was. 

Because of this, the constant pampering and the hiding of such an important thing, she spent more money then the kindgom had collectively, ate and wasted more food than an entire city and was generally despised by the servants and maids still employed. It only took them a few days to start dividing up the leftovers of her large, fancy meals between themselves to take home to share with their own starving families.

At this point, Ira didn't know if he pitied her or felt embarrassed for her.

Nonetheless, time was a singularly cruel thing and kept on moving. 

By the time four months had passed since the engagement feast, his Host was only barely managing to hold onto her job. Unfortunately, due to the lack of staff, the workload had tripled and she had neither the time nor energy to be of use to the mermaid princess. The few times she wasn't the equivalent of a modern-day corporate slave persistently doing overtime with no pay, she was sending letters and small gifts to the nobleman she had a crush on.

Out of curiosity, Ira had checked up on him. The man was happily married to his childhood sweetheart and had had a pair of squishy twins just a few months ago.

Ira was really looking forwards to his Host getting her heart broken.

In addition to the food shortage was a looming civil war. The family of the noble girl and their supporters were disgusted with the prince and had rallied their troops when it became clear that a show of force was needed.

Again, the mermaid princess was unaware of all of the suffering she was causing. Not that she would care if she _did_ know.

Currently, Ira was hiding out in the Queen's rooms from the cold winter, bundled up in a whole pile of blankets. On the other side of the bed sat the Queen herself, looking regal even while she was frowning at the cards in her hands and surrounded by more blankets than he could count. This had recently become a habit for them, he sneaked into her room and instead of throwing him out, she used him to complain to.

And she had a lot of complaints.

The fact was, that despite being technically the Queen, she didn't actually hold a lot of power of her own, as her husband — the former king — was dead and her son was now of age. This meant that when the prince tired of his mother trying to break up him and the mermaid princess in order to fix the mess he had made, he ordered her to stay out of the kingdom's affairs and forbid her from meddling.

Things rapidly took another turn for the worse after this. While the Queen might not have a lot of _official_ power, she did have a lot of powerful connections, a personal wealth that shamed the prince's and a solid support network.

The prince had none of this.

The result was depressingly predictable. The country fell apart even faster, and without the Queen to negotiate with the noble girl's family, those relations just soured even quicker, as the prince was not even a little bit sorry for first cheating and then dumping her.

"All of your sevens."

Frowning, Ira stared at his cards and clicked his tongue when he found he had two of them. Unwillingly, he handed them over with nothing more than a grimace.

The Queen smiled as she received them. "Tens."

This time, Ira was the one to smile. "Go fish."

After she had picked up a card from the many still laying in between them on the bed, Ira stared down at his cards and thought it through. After careful deliberation, he said, "Fives."

"Go fish."

He narrowed his eyes but dutifully picked up a randrom card. A queen. 

How fitting.

"All of your aces." the Queen said with a frankly scary intensity.

Grimacing again, Ira had over three of them. Then he promptly lost a four and three eights. And then two threes and two twos. Finally, she called a number he didn't have and he immediately demanded kings.

"Go fish."

Unwillingly, he picked up another card. It was a two. Before he could do something with it, he lost it.

The game ended, once again, in the Queen's favor. This is what happens when you don't cheat.

"Rematch." Ira demanded. 

The Queen sighed and said, "I've won twelve times in a row. I don't think a rematch will do you any good."

"You never know." Ira stated tonelessly. "Luck is a factor as well."

"Yes," the Queen nodded in agreement. "but you don't have any."

In a huff, Ira threw the cards still in his hands down on the comfy bed and laid down on it. "It's just because I wasn't cheating. If I was, I'd win so fast you wouldn't have time to blink."

"But then I wouldn't play with you at all."

Sulking, Ira ignored her words of wisdom.

"So," the Queen started in a drawling voice. "how are things going between you and that gentleman?"

Furrowing his brow, Ira asked bluntly, "Who?"

The Queen leaned back against the head of the bed in her mountain of blankets. "The gentleman from the _engagement feast_?"

She positively spit out the last words.

Ira tilted his head sideways and stated. "There was no gentleman at the engagement feast."

"The man that kissed you."

"Ah... him." said Ira monotonously.

"You have no idea who I'm talking about, do you?" the Queen asked in an exasperated tone of voice.

Ira just shrugged his shoulders.

The Queen sighed again. She seemed to so a lot around him. "The man that fed you chocolate cake." 

Nodding, Ira agreed. "Yes. He's a good kisser."

"I give up." said the Queen and closed her eyes. Ira wondered what she was giving up on but then realized that he didn't care.

"Another game?" he asked hopefully.

The Queen snapped out a tired sounding, "NO."

Shrugging his shoulders, Ira just closed his eyes as well. This was the best bed to nap on anyway.

The food crises was going badly. The prince was a young man that had had everything delivered to him and no sense of monetary value. The only job he'd ever had was as a captain in the kingdom's navy, and he hadn't even worked his way up to the position. He had no bright allies to help him — those were all dead — and no loyal friends to give aid —those had left him due to him breaking off his previous engagement of which they were family — and he had alienated his own mother.

Needless to say, he simply did not have the skill or knowledge to lead a starving nation. While he might have talent and he might have brains, he did not have the corresponding experience and so kept on making small mistakes with lead to big consequences. 

When he tried to get cheaper prices importing food from neutral or enemy nations, he got ripped off and got bad products. When he tried to negotiate with the noble girl's family, he was too unreasonable and refused to compromise. When he tried to fix the economy, he gave aid instead of jobs, which helped nobody in the long run.

The prince might be the protagonist of the story, but he was also unreasonably stubborn.

It kind of killed the attraction.

During the many months following the engagement feast, Ira had met up with the former merman — who was now apparently a merchant in another country? — about once a month.

They usually met up at an old house that the former merman seemingly owned in the city below the castle, and while it wasn't as comfortable as the castle, there was still something appealing to it for Ira. It might have to do with the large collection of books from all over this world that the merman kept collecting for him.

It also might have something to do with the distance from idiotic mortals.

Who could tell, right?

Regardless, Ira quite enjoyed their secret rendezvouses, mostly because it felt like he was in a story and it was amusing. He especially enjoyed the feeling of being alone with the former merman, even if he didn't quite know why.

He had fun and there was something pleasant burning in his chest when he spent time with him. That was all he needed to know.

Having a friend was a novel sensation, but it was proving quite enjoyable.

Not that he was going to go out of his way to make _more_ friends. That required way too much energy. 

No, having one friend who wasn't also a work-colleague was more than enough for him.

Any more than that and he'd start killing people.

Literally.

Due to his regular outings to the world of commoners, he saw more of the devastation than he cared to. It wasn't that it bothered him (in fact, it amused him) but they kept on asking him for money or food and eventually he got sick of it.

And besides, it wasn't like he had either. He either stole it from the castle or got it from his former merman.

So he told the former merman to throw some money at them or something, because lately they had been getting really touchy-feely and the kingdom was about to have a massacre on its hand. 

That would be the kind of thing that would dock his pay, unless in a world where such actions were acceptable.

And yes, such worlds _did_ exist.

Humans were such a troublesome species.

Why did they have to insist on having so many kids?

 


	29. 3.8

Despite the dire straights the kingdom was in, somehow the preparations for the wedding between the prince and the mermaid princess were going forwards smoothly. Ira wasn't sure if that was a sign of how stupid these people were or if there were drugs involved. It could very well be either or.

The Queen was showcasing her disdain for her son's actions by locking herself in her quarters and ignoring the world. Except, of course, when Ira came by to take advantage of her warm bed.

The winter was beyond freezing.

As the preparations flowed by, the rage of the citizens increased to frankly dangerous levels. They were absolutely furious with the prince and his fiancée, to the point that assassination attempts became the norm. And these weren't professional assassins either (nobody had the money for _that_ ) but rather, normal citizens attempting to violently murder their royal family. As the violent attempts failed one after another, they became smarter and started with subtler things.

Like poison.

Which was the reason the mermaid princess was bedridden with a fervor that was as likely to kill her as it wasn't. 

When the prince found out that it had been a member of his own country that had poisoned his darling mistress, he was horrified. It seemed like the idea that his citizens might be _unhappy_ with him had never occurred to him.

Idiot.

Ira spent his days the way he always did, even as the kingdom headed down the highway of destruction faster than the speed of light. 

The maids and servants working in the castle got progressively angrier as well, as they were actually in a position to see how unsuitable the mermaid princess acted. She disregarded common courtesy entirely, did everything solely for her own amusement and seemed to have no concept of manners. Not to mention how many resources were wasted on just her.

It didn't take her long to become a symbol of hatred to the entire kingdom. There was not a person that still liked her, if they ever had. As a result, his Host suffered from the hatred as well, as she was still often seen together with the woman.

Curling under the covers of the soft bed, Ira whined a little when he felt somebody shake him. He was well aware that he had been lying in bed for more then a whole day at this point, but truly, it was cold and the people were miserable. And as fun as that was to see, miserable people were more likely to bother him in the pursuit of trouble. Ira had no patience for it.

"Come on. It's time to get up now."

The voice of the former merman penetrated the covers and Ira felt himself pout as he burrowed down deeper into his makeshift cage. He was very happy where he was, thank you very much.

He had absolutely no desire to get up.

A hand crawled through the warm covers and touched his shoulder, bringing the cold with it. "Come now, I'll get you some hot chocolate."

Blinking open his eyes, Ira felt his interest peak. "Really?"

"Yes. I would never lie to you."

The process of climbing out of the mountain of blankets was made more difficult due to how he had surrounded himself in them. It took him quite a while to manage to disentangle himself from the mess.

When he finally succeeded, he found a ceramic cup held up in front of his face.

Smiling, Ira took a hold of the cup — that was still warm and steaming — and drank from it without hesitation. There was a slight sensation of burning in his mouth, but he frankly didn't care. Ira would go through Heaven and Hell for chocolate, as much as the idea of going through Heaven was simply nauseating.

That was one place he never wanted to visit again. 

It was far too... _happy_.

Shivering in disgust from just thinking about it, he swallowed another mouthful of liquid and relished in the burn on his tongue.

He might be able to turn off the ability to feel the cold, but doing so got boring after a while. Sometimes it was nice to be pampered like this by the people around him. He had seen his Hosts doing it plenty of times, exaggerating the effect of the cold to get advantages and he wanted to try it out for himself.

It wasn't that bad.

As long as it was just the merman, anybody else and Ira had the feeling he would go straight to homicide.

As it was, Ira was already on the edge of regicide.

He hummed in pleasure as he swallowed the last of the chocolate drink and frowned down at the empty cup. A low laugh by his side made him turn his head to catch sight of the former merman sitting next to him. The merman's eyes were sparkling with what was either delight or rage. He honestly couldn't tell.

Frowning at him, Ira asked, "What's so funny?"

"You. You are absolutely adorable." the former merman responded without any sense of shame. 

Ira glared at him and said, "I am hardly adorable. Say that again and I'll kill you."

The man just laughed harder. What insolence.

"Shut up!" hissed Ira at the former merman and held up the empty cup towards him. "And give me more."

The former merman smiled at him and said unrepentantly seriously, "As my darling commands."

While he waited for the former merman to come back with the refilled cup, Ira took the opportunity to check up on his Host. In his mind, he could see her sorting laundry alone on a deserted floor. She was frowning and had a distinctly unhappy grimace on her face.

As she folded the laundry, she hummed a song from another time under her breath. Ira watched as she shivered in the cold, even bundled up as she was. Her eyes, however, glowed with an inner determination. What that determination might be though, he didn't know. Because he didn't care to find out.

Before he could see anything _interesting_ , the former merman returned and handed him the cup again. Grabbing it, Ira started drinking the warm fluid immediately.

He closed his eyes in bliss and sighed in pleasure. This was the life.

"Satisfied?" asked the former merman by his side again. Ira just nodded in response, his eyes still closed.

In search of entertainment, he checked up on the prince of the kingdom. The prince was currently in a meeting with his ministers in the castle, discussing their nation's problems and trying to avoid the topic of his wedding with them. The ministers were well aware that the first thing to do to fix this crisis was to renounce the mermaid princess, but the prince blatantly refused to even consider it.

He was so wrapped up in his own love that the mere suggestion was offensive to him. Time and time again, he rejected the proposal, getting increasingly violent in each turn. His distrust of his ministers increased with each time they suggested it.

In addition to the wedding preparations, there were also preparations for him to succeed the throne and finally become king. The mermaid princess had convinced him that it was his right and that his mother had been stealing it from him, and now he was determined to become king so that his beloved owner could become the queen.

As was to be expected, those in the know were not taking the news well.

Sensing weakness, the surrounding kingdoms had renegotiated the trade agreements with the kingdom in their favors, which just led to more loss in the long run. Because the prince was getting increasingly paranoid, he had demanded to do the negotiations himself and had failed spectacularly, not that he even realized it.

Yes, Ira was getting very close to committing regicide. Idiocy was one thing that he simply couldn't stand.

He felt a hand brush through his hair and redirected his attention to the former merman — now man — sitting next to him on the bed. Ira gave him an odd look when the man did not desist in his caressing. Frowning, he asked, "What are you doing?"

The man smiled softly at him. "Getting your attention."

He furrowed his brow in confusion. "But I'm right here."

"No." the man smiled softly again and if it had been anyone else, he would have gagged in disgust. "You were somewhere else. I don't like it."

"Hmm.  That's not up to you, though."

This time, the man's smile was sad. "I know."

Ira stared at his otherworldly features for a while longer before he directed his attention elsewhere. 

The kingdom was gearing up for civil war and the only people unaware of it were the prince and the mermaid princess. Even his Host had caught on and had been trying to talk sense into the mermaid princess, which everybody could tell was in complete vain. Besides, that wasn't the mission, even if his Host had forgotten it. The mission was simply to die. What happened to this world after the mission was irrelevant to his Host.

And Ira didn't care enough to find out anyway.

Rolling his eyes at the mushiness going on right now, he gave the former merman a cold look. "If you were anyone else, I would kill you for saying such cheesy crap."

For some reason, this made the man look unbearably pleased.

Ira just diverted his eyes from the picture of happiness and let his mind wander again. The prince had concluded his meeting with his ministers and was now in the mermaid princess' chambers. As they weren't yet married, this was a wildly inappropriate thing to do in plain sight, but as he didn't posses a brain, he didn't realize what a scandal he was causing.

Not to mention that, due to the rumors, the noble girl's family was even more spurned, as they now thought the prince had been cheating on her. This was not just a scandal, it was a personal offense that would not be forgiven.

This was the sort of thing that caused feuds that lasted for centuries.

The prince sat himself down on a chair next to the mermaid princess' bed, where she was leaning back against a wall of pillows. Her room was warm thanks to the fireplace that was always lit and the many candles. Ira wondered how nobody was concerned at what a fire hazard that was, but then he realized that was probably the hope.

Stick enough candles in there and one was bound to fall over eventually. It was the perfect untraceable assassination plan.

The prince took a hold of mermaid princess' hand and asked in a disgustingly gentle voice, "How are you feeling?"

The mermaid princess smiled gently back. It made her face look like that of a doll. The prince just squeezed her hand tighter and leaned towards her on his chair. "If you are in pain or require anything, just let the servants know and they'll help you, alright? I'm sorry I haven't been around much lately, there are just so many things to prepare for the wedding. Are you sure you wouldn't rather decide these things?"

She shook her head and smiled again. 

The prince smiled back and said, "Alright. All you need to concentrate on is to get better, okay? Recover, and we will get married after my coronation, and then you will be the queen."

Her smile brightened and the prince looked at her with a stupid vapid face. What a sucker. Ira honestly hoped the rest of the human race weren't this incompetent and vulnerable to _love_. 

If they were, they were straight up doomed.

Ira pulled his eyes away when they started kissing wildly on the bed and touching under the clothes. Did they have no shame? No sense of propriety?

He wondered how hard it would be to erase these images from his mind. A lot easier then if he had been human, he supposed, but still, to think he had seen something so _gross_. Humans just possessed no self-control.

Ira felt nauseous.

 


	30. 3.9

The coronation arrived with the kind of dizzying speed that all disasters did.

Ira was sat at the very back of the throne room — because he couldn't stomach the idea of being _closer_ — and left with a disturbingly clear view of the prince having a golden crown adorned with an unnecessary amount of precious gems put upon his brow by an unsteady and creepily thin priest, who would probably die of starvation soon.

More than half of the chairs in the throne room were empty and frankly, the only reason the rest of the viewers had come to watch was because there was going to be a free buffet at the after feast.

 _Nobody_ was going to miss the chance to steal all of that food.

The rest of the people were simply already dead.

Sinking further into his chair out of an acute sense of embarrassment as the prince — now king — made a grand speech about protecting his country and carrying it into prosperity, Ira put his hands over his eyes and peeked out between them when he couldn't, unfortunately, contain his curiosity. He stared as the prince glittered when the light hit the gleaming clean crown, watched as the mermaid princess stood with a smug smile by the prince's side.

Anybody could see that she was obnoxiously pleased with this outcome and it would lead them to the ever correct conclusion that she was a heartless gold-digger, but somehow the prince — king — was completely oblivious to this. Ira didn't understand it and he had a feeling that he never would.

A hand grabbed a hold of one of his and dragged it away from his face. The warmth of the hand was much appreciated and so Ira didn't object when the former merman held it tight in his grip.

Eventually, the dangerously thin priest pronounced the prince the king with a flat and monotone voice that managed to adequately convey his dissatisfaction with this development. When Ira swept his mental gaze over all of the people in the hall, all of them, even the royal guards, had unhappy and disgusted faces. Nobody was happy with this development, except possibly enemies that saw this as a golden opportunity to strike. His Host stood at the corner of the room, her eyes anxiously fixated on the mermaid princess and her expression very clearly told him that she incredibly worried.

Well, she was right to be worried. It wasn't long now until the mermaid princess would be assassinated and she would have to die.

Ira looked forwards to it.

With that, the coronation was thankfully over and it was time for the after feast. Ira smiled and stood from his seat with his hand still captured in the other man's. The feast would be taking place in the ballroom just next door, and everybody started moving in this direction as one, like a herd of hapless sheep. 

Ira decided that it would be easier to just go with the flow rather than to fight it, and so that was what he did, dragging along a former merman behind him.

Around them, a tense silence settled over the people. Nearly no-one was saying a word, contrary to feasts of the past. Everybody was on edge, gearing up with their sacks to collect as much food as possible. 

The new king was about to have a bloodbath on his hands in his own castle.

That would be a _great_ first impression.

Ira suppressed a bloodthirsty grin lasted for barely the blink of an eye on his face, at the thought of all of the blood and misery about to descent on the castle like madness. This was the only reason he had deigned to be present at the coronation.

In the ballroom, there were four prepared tables full of tasty looking food on them. As soon as people entered the room, they started running for the food with a single-minded intensity that would scare lesser people. The roar of all of the footsteps echoed in the large hall, and screams rose from the furious people that pulled out knifes and swords and started throwing glasses around.

Other people were trampled to death in the chaos, while even more murdered the people in front of them in cold blood in order to get their food sacks. Nobody was safe.

Ira loved it, and he watched it faithfully from his place by the door, where he had sat down to get a good view. He watched it from above in his mind, as blood spilled and dyed the floor red, as bodies fell to the ground never to walk again, as plates and knifes, forks and glasses were thrown in order to decrease the competition.

By his side, the former merman sat down with him and watched the bloody carnage without saying a word. Their hands were still tightly connected.

Ira took advantage of the support and leaned against the man's side, his head on his shoulder. He whispered, "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Yes." came in response in strong voice of the former merman. "Magnificent."

Ira smiled and looked up at the man. "You think so too?"

"The most beautiful thing I've ever seen." the man smiled gently down at Ira and used his hand to curve Ira's hair back behind his ear. A strange warmth followed the sensation, but Ira didn't think about it any further.

Turning his attention back to the now significantly more red ballroom, Ira looked on as the few people still alive sneaked out through any entrance they could find, whether that was a door or window. Thankfully they were on the bottom floor or there would be even more bodies outside the castle.

Not that there weren't already. Some people had gotten smart and ambushed the people coming out and taking their food instead of fighting for it inside.

Then they ran away as fast as possible, only to be ambushed by the people waiting outside of the castle gates.

Those people were then in turn ambushed by the townspeople.

It was an _hilarious_ cycle.

Eventually, after more then two hours of pure, undiluted chaos, the only people left in the ballroom not Ira and his former merman were dead bodies.

Basking in the smell of fresh blood and the sensation of pain, misery and despair that those spirits left behind, Ira climbed to his feet and stretched out his back. He cracked his neck, waved his arms a little to get the blood flowing again, and started walking in the direction of the double-doors. Behind him, the former merman followed after.

Outside of the ballroom, the hallways were covered with even more bloodied bodies. They laid with their eyes open, their hands outstretched as if they tried until the last second to hold onto their food sacks. 

Ira stepped over them without concerning himself with the blood now covering his shoes. It just added character to them.

A groan disturbed the silence. Ira looked around until he caught sight of a sad looking man that was covered in his own blood, trying to keep his intestines from spilling out. Curious, Ira rose an eyebrow and wandered closer. The man kept on groaning the whole time and when he saw Ira out of his one useful eye, the man croaked out a weak, "H-help m-me..."

Ira smiled. "Of course."

He promptly stabbed the man in his throat with a knife that he had nicked from a dead body.

It wasn't like they were going to miss it.

With the man dead at his feet, Ira turned back to the former merman, who stared at him with a look in his eyes that he couldn't understand. "I've missed killing people."

"If it'll make you happy, I'll find a whole world for you to kill."

Ira rose an eyebrow at that, but didn't bother to ask about it. Instead he continued to walk until they exited the castle and found themselves on the front steps of it, blood and bodies still covering the ground. Ira wondered absentmindedly how many people had managed to survive, but couldn't imagine it being many, what with the amount of blood littering the ground.

He stepped between the bodies on his way down so as to not trip on the steps and go rolling down them. Behind him, he heard the footsteps of the former merman following dutifully, and he took the opportunity to check up on his Host.

He knew she was alive, or there would be text saying otherwise.

His Host was laying in her bed, hyperventilating and in the middle of a panic attack. She kept on mumbling about blood and screams and burrowed deeper into her bed at every sound she heard.

Which wasn't much, with the heavy eerie silence that had descended on the whole castle. Ira saw the stark look of primeval fear on her face and checked with an absent mind that he was still recording. Seeing the light confirming it, he switched his view to the new king.

The new king was in the middle of having sex with the mermaid princess, and had no idea of what had just transpired.

The Queen was in the middle of packing when he checked in on her, her face grim and her eyes determined. She at least, knew what had happened at the coronation feast and had decided to take action, even if it wasn't the best for the kingdom. There was a certain kind of respect in that, in getting out of a bad situation.

There was a power in realizing when to give up, when to stop trying to fix things.

Sometimes it just wasn't meant to be, and that was okay.

Ira wandered down the steps, around the now blood-filled fountain and followed along the winding path leading to the castle gates.

The golden gates were, like everything else, splattered with blood. The guards were dead and surrounded by even more bodies. There was not a sack anywhere to be found. These people had really been thorough.

It was not until they had left the castle gates that he realized there was no cart to pick them up. All of the horses were gone as well, most likely for their meat, or they had gotten loose. One of the other. Cursing, Ira turned to the former merman and gave him a considering look. It didn't seem _impossible_.

Narrowing his eyes, Ira demanded, "Carry me back."

"Of course." the man smiled gently at him, his inhuman eyes glowing in the night. He bent down and without wasting a second, Ira climbed onto his back and held on tight.

"You know," Ira began and closed his eyes. "it's nice, the way you listen to me. It so rarely happens."

"I'll always listen to you." the man answered in a low voice.

On the edge of falling asleep, Ira asked, "Do you promise?"

"Yes." 

Ira, with his eyes closed, let his mind wander and checked in on his Host once more. She was now in the middle of the ballroom, trying to clean up all of the blood. By the look on her face and the health status, he could tell she had already thrown up twice from the visceral view and overpowering smell. She wasn't the only one there, rather all of the maids and servants were gathered and helping to clean.

They were very clearly pissed off about it, but they cleaned.

Reluctantly.

In the king's quarters, the new king and the former mermaid princess — because she wasn't anymore — laid sleeping on the bed, not a worry to be seen. This room was also covered in lit candles.

Feeling sleep creeping up on him, Ira returned his attention to the former merman carrying him and hugged him tighter. 

It was unexpectedly nice, not being utterly alone.

His head rested on the man's shoulder and he could hear the man's voice as he whispered,

"Sweet dreams, Ira."

 


	31. 3.10

"Are you sure you want to go to this thing?" the former merman asked Ira, sounding honestly worried.

Ira nodded in response and answered, "If it goes horribly, I don't want to miss the chance to see it with my own eyes."

The man still looked worried, so Ira decided to do him a favor and smile reassuringly at him. Then again, it was his very first attempt in an uncountable number of years, so who knew what it actually looked like? 

"There is no reason to worry." Ira stated while walking up the steps to the castle entrance.

It was finally time for the new king's and the former mermaid princess' wedding. For the whole day, wedding bells had resounded from the highest tower of the castle, unrepentantly announcing the happy occasion to the world at large with no regard to the people's feelings on the matter. 

Ira was attending the wedding in the company of the former merman. He would have accompanied the Queen, but she had already gotten out of the country, not that this seemed to bother the new king.

Ungrateful jackass.

Rolling his eyes at his own thoughts, Ira watched on as the former merman presented the guard with their invitation at the front door. Ira was coming along as the man's plus one, though he had no idea how he had gotten his hands on an authentic invitation. And out of curiosity, he had checked it out. It was one-hundred percent authentic. 

Still, it was none of his business, so he hadn't bothered looking into it further. Once the guard verified that they invitation was real, they were let in through the door. 

As it was an incredibly fancy occasion (which had effectively bankrupted the whole country) Ira had gone to the effort of dressing up in a fancy black suit and wearing a pair of long dangling red tear-shaped earrings. He had found that he enjoyed the sensation of them dangling next to his neck, and in a traditional world like this, it was always fun to see people looking horrified at his daring fashion choices. They could make the stupidest faces, over a pair of earrings. At least they were a tasteful silver, unlike the gaudy thing that the former mermaid princess were wearing hanging from her ears.

Ira shuddered a little at the thought of that monstrosity and swore to himself that he would never wear anything like it. Tearing his attention away from such nasty thoughts, Ira refocused on reality as they walked through the long hall leading to the ballroom the wedding was to be held in.

It _would_ have been held in a church, but even they were pissed off and they had faked a prophecy where if the new king got married in one, his beloved master would immediacy drop dead.

Talk about abusing ones power.

Well, Ira wouldn't have done any differently. Except killing the new king, but to each their own, he supposed.

At the entrance to the ballroom (the same that had been the site of a massacre) another guard checked their invitation again. From what Ira could tell, they had really put n more effort for the security this time, hiring bandits and even pirates to take care of when the castle's own security forces were so diminished. They had participated in the worst massacre this country had ever known as well, after all. 

Just because they worked for the royal family as guards, didn't mean that their families weren't starving like everybody else's.

They were let into the ballroom without any trouble. Which was a shame, because Ira really felt like stabbing somebody, but he supposed he would just have to ignore it. Unless some happened, the way he was high-key hoping it would.

Otherwise, this was going to be one boring wedding.

If there weren't going to be murder involved, Ira really didn't understand the appeal of marriage.

"This way, please." the former merman took charge and lead Ira to their seats. This time, they were closer to the raised stage, sitting right next to the isle where the former mermaid princess was going to be walking pretty soon. And making a fool of herself, let's not forget that.

That was, after all, the important part.

They sat themselves down on white chairs, Ira being the one to sit right next to isle with the former merman on his other side.

For the next half-hour, while they waited on the wedding to begin, Ira spent the time observing his Host. She was still in the middle of doing her duties, sneaking glances every once in a while at the ballroom. She was undoubtedly anxious to get in there, as she seemed to have enough smarts to realize what a perfect opportunity it would be for an assassination attempt.

Whether she would actually manage to get in there though, with all of her duties, was another question. And not one Ira was interested in, so he stopped watching fairly early. Instead he just searched through his database for a book he didn't despise and read it in his mind while waiting.

And then the wedding bells rang seven times in a row, to invite good fortune and the people occupying the chairs all stood up, Ira included.

A soft, gentle melody emerged from the instruments of a band standing at the very back of stage. It appeared like the new king had entered the room while Ira hadn't been paying attention, because he stood up there as well. And his suit had so much gold decorating it, it ought to be illegal.

Seriously, if he wouldn't be dumping this body soon, he'd sooner gauge his own eyes out then watch it another second. Thankfully, he didn't need to use such drastic measures, as he could just turn off his eyesight.

The music rose in tempo, still going slowly, and people turned as one to watch the entrance to the ballroom. As expected, the former mermaid princess stood there, glowing from all of the diamonds decorating her ghost white dress, while a huge tiara sat upon her head, holding down the several meters long veil. She was smiling as if it was the happiest day if her life, and to be fair, it probably was. After all, she was about to become a queen.

As a mermaid, this wouldn't have been possible, as she had at least a dozen siblings, all of them older than her. 

Behind her trailed a pair of really uncomfortable looking women, carrying her veil so it wouldn't become dirty. They weren't her bridesmaids, they were just doing their duty, and it was plain on their faces to see that they despised it.

The former mermaid princess utterly failed to walk in tempo with the music, and her steps were visibly unsteady because she hadn't bothered to practice walking using heels. 

Apparently, she thought she was so amazing that she didn't need it.

As such, every single person in the room could see that she was on the verge of falling every single step she took. They made no effort to hide their gleeful smiles, either.

In this, Ira was no different than them.

As the women passed Ira by where he stood, he saw that even her makeup was uneven behind her veil. Evidently, this was a small piece of revenge from the maid that had been forced to spend five hours putting it on while the former mermaid princess complained every step of the way.

They had had to get up early this morning. Ira practically reveled in the discomfort the former mermaid felt in the face of this effort.

Eventually, there former mermaid princess reached the steps up the stage, and painfully slowly, she ascended them. With help from the new king, that had hurried forward to her as soon as she arrived. They held hands all the way up to the priest. This time, the man looked even skinnier. 

Even priests didn't have it easy in these trying times.

"We are gathered here today to..." Ira didn't pay attention to the rest of it, as the priest recited the words in a tone so flat and monotone it was almost murderous. It was the sort of tone that put people right to sleep. He saw more then a few people stop paying attention nearly as fast as he did.

With everybody sitting down on their seats again, Ira didn't resist when the former merman took a hold of his hand and gripped it tight. He had no reason to. And the warmth was kind of nice.

Ira had trouble keeping himself awake throughout the rest of the very long — seriously, what wedding took four hours? — ceremony, and eventually he just settled himself down and leaned his head on his merman's shoulder, his eyes half-open as his focus wavered.

It was so _dull_.

Were all weddings like this? Why would anybody ever want to put themselves through this torture?!

Humans. Crazy, the whole lot of them.

It was the sound of a gong that brought him out of his self-induced trance. Ira blinked rapidly to bring focus back to his eyes and sat up straight in his seat. His hand stayed connected with the former merman's through sheer force of coincidence, not because he liked it.

He started paying attention again just in time to see the end of the new king and queen's very inappropriate kiss.

Disgusting. 

Ira hurriedly pointed his eyes in another direction, which allowed him to see as an assassin came flying in through one of the many arched windows from a perfect vantage point. It was like something out of a movie, they guy just soared through the air and crashed right through it. And then laid very still on the floor, blood seeping from his body.

It was all very dramatic.

Checking, Ira was glad to see that he had managed to catch the entire thing on camera.

He couldn't quite contain his laughter, and had to hide his face against the former merman's chest to keep from people hearing him.

Just... so _hilarious_.

Screams rose around him like a symphony.

Another person came soaring through the air, missed the window that had already been destroyed and crashed through another one. Their broken body rolled meters on the floor before it finally came to a stop, just centimeters from the chairs, blood flowing in their wake. A third person followed soon after.

This time, due to the many people ducking down under their chairs, Ira could see that they swung from a tower of the castle, hanging on to a rope with a death-grip.

Another loud crash and one more broken body rolled all over the floor.

Ira could no longer keep from laughing, and his whole body shook from the force of it.

The next person to fly through the air managed to enter through one the already destroyed windows, and dropped to the floor without breaking anything.They pulled out a sword from their black clothes, yelled a stupidly loud battle roar and ran toward the new king and queen, who were still standing up on the stage, too stunned to move.

His Host had entered the ballroom at the first crash, and she ran toward the new queen with desperation giving her speed from another direction.

Guards intercepted the screaming madman, while another man flew through a window. Ira heard a vague crash from outside, as someone slid from their rope and crashed meters through the air to the hard unforgiving ground.

"Princess!" his Host screamed. "Run! Hurry!"

The new queen didn't move an inch. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open as if she wanted to bark orders, and her hands fluttering like she was attempting to make them into claws. 

Hist Host caught sight of someone else emerging from behind the stage, walking toward the new queen, and she sped up further. Throwing every inch of her energy into it, she managed to push the new queen out of the way, and the dagger stabbed her right through her lung and into her heart, killing her instantly.

Without more than a scant few milliseconds of delay, Ira's soul was then promptly unconnected form this body, and he was sent on to another world while the words _Mission Success_ blazed across his mind.

Damn it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Arc 3. Go to wattpad for faster updates.


	32. 4.1

A terrified scream interrupted the unnatural silence.

Jerking a little at the suddenness of it, Ira blinked his eyes open and found himself in both another world and another body. 

Blinking a little more as the pungent scent of blood and grime filled his nose until it was all he could smell — not that that was a bad thing — Ira sat himself up from where he had been laying on a fairly comfortable mattress, all things considered. The room he was in was a mess, as if it had been ransacked about two dozen times, followed by a hurricane. Curtains fluttered from the wind in front of the open window, where lukewarm air travelled through.

There were no birds chirping, no sound of bugs or barking of dogs. Just a still, unnatural silence.

The screaming that had woken him up — he had transferred to this body awhile ago, he had just decided to sleep before dealing with it — cut off with an abruptness that told him it wasn't voluntarily. Curious, Ira stood from his position on the bed and walked over to the window.

The sight that met him was absolutely  _glorious_.

Gore and blood littered the streets, cars overturned — some still smoking from the remains of fires that had reduced them to husks — and corpses walking, grunting as they moved.

The sun was still on the horizon, not yet truly morning, and Ira was already in a great mood.

Observing as what passed for this world's zombies tore a woman apart in the middle of streets below him, he turned his attention to the information he automatically received whenever he entered a new world. Having a body was a choice he had made, because he was performing an experiment to confirm a theory, and he was of high enough rank that he was allowed it.

This world was, as might be concluded from the evidence so far, in the middle of a zombie outbreak.

It was sometime in the twenty-first century, so technology was at least more advanced than previous missions and he could probably find decent books here, provided libraries and bookstores hadn't all been destroyed.

One could always hope.

As was customary in worlds like these, it was a survival story.

His Host had been transmigrated into the body of a mildly important cannon fodder, a certain Jane Miller, who had managed to live for around five years into the apocalypse, not much worse for wear. But in the end, like all cannon fodders, she was killed to give the protagonists of the story a much needed push forward.

His Host's mission this time was to find the vaccine for the zombie virus.

This was no longer the Tutorial Mode.

As was mandatory, Ira had possessed a body that had no relevance to the story, a mob character of such little importance, he was named precisely once in the original story, and then never mentioned again. And the one time he was mentioned, was just a soldier announcing names of the recently deceased to a superior officer.

However, right now was a different time. It had only been three days since the zombie outbreak began, and he was nowhere near the base his character was set to join, work for, and then promptly die for, all within the same year.

Smiling in success at being put in a world filled with decay, where he could murder people left and right without anybody the wiser, Ira leaned on the windowsill and gazed out at the wonderful view. His eyes grew relaxed as he watched the various low-level zombies grunting as they moved, following any sound they could hear.

Ira only felt anticipation curling in his stomach as he watched them.

Hopefully, they wouldn't disappoint.

Letting his attention split, he zoomed in on his Host, who was in another city in another part of the country. At the moment, she was desperately fleeing a pack of zombies together with a few other people, while others from high vantage points picked off the zombies one by one. She was covered in grime and dust, her eyes were wild and she screamed whenever a zombie approached, which of course only a attracted more of them.

It wasn't difficult to imagine what her companions were thinking. Unfortunately, they were only a few days into the apocalypse, so most people hadn't hardened their hearts yet, which meant he wouldn't get to see her being abandoned and left to fend for herself.

It would have been really funny, too.

Well, it might still happen.

It was all about keeping up hope, in worlds like this.

With the Tutorial Mode no longer active, the mission this time required much more proactivity. Going with the flow and keeping ones head down wouldn't do any more. No, this time, his Host would need to take the initiative and work hard, harder than she ever had before.

Ira was more than ready to record the entire clusterfest.

Keeping his bloodthirsty thoughts from showing on his face with difficulty, Ira decided that he had observed long enough. Depending on how long it took his Host to die, he had more then enough time to take in the view, especially as it would only get better from here. Not to mention all of the pictures he had already taken.

Sweeping his eyes over the room he had woken up in, Ira grinned a little viciously when he saw a backpack stowed away under the bed. Bending down, he grabbed it and dropped it on top of the bed, opening it as he went.

It had a few bottles of water, very clearly store-bought, a couple of unopened cans of food and a small first-aid kit that hadn't been opened yet. And evidently, this mob character hadn't been a complete fool, because there was also a few tubes of toothpaste and an unopened packet of toothbrushes, together with about four bars of unused soap.

At least his teeth wouldn't fall out. That was always something.

And he wouldn't stink.

Opening one of the cans — there was also a can-opener in the backpack — Ira started eating, feeling relieved when that annoying rumbling sound from his stomach disappeared.

"Now then." Ira said when he had finished eating. "Where am I going to go from here?"

A bloodthirsty grin spread across his face. "Somewhere... messy."

After he brushed his teeth in the bathroom and finished his business at the toilet, Ira grabbed his backpack, put it over one of his shoulders and slowly opened the front door. He peeked his head out and stared both ways, disappointed when he couldn't see a single zombie. Checking his map, he frowned when there truly was no zombie around waiting to ambush him.

What an utter let down.

Scowling in displeasure, Ira opened the door all of the way and slammed it closed behind him. However, as no zombie was close enough to hear it, it had absolutely no effect whatsoever but displeasing him further. 

He huffed at the unfairness of it all, his Host chased by zombies, but not a single zombie in his close proximity.

Ira wanted to be chased by zombies too, damn it.

He stomped his feet with viciousness where he walked along the street, hoping that some zombie would hear him and come running, but again, no luck. Getting more and more pissed off the longer he went without attracting attention, Ira scowled harder and harder. By the time he had walked two blocks further into the city he had woken up in, Ira was so pissed off he would have killed his Host if they had entered his physical sight.

Catching sight of a convince store, Ira increased his speed and entered it without any attempt at stealth. Surely, there must be some zombie trapped in here.

But no, because the universe hated him, there was not single being in the store, whether dead or otherwise.

In his fury at once again being denied his prey, Ira kicked over a shelf and watched it fall with satisfaction finally burning in his gut. He wandered through the store, the shelves practically overflowing with stuff. Clearly, nobody had been here since the apocalypse had started.

He grabbed some more canned goods and some bottles of water, and after thinking it over, some liquor too. He wasn't much for drinking, but he was in a mood right now. 

In his mind, he could see as his Host had finally escaped from the zombies together with her companions. The group she was running with was set to run into the protagonist's group in about another month. When that happened, it would lead to internal strife and half the group would proceed on their own, while the other half would stay with the protagonist. Jane Miller would be among the later half.

Ira was looking forward to seeing what his Host would choose to do when the opportunity arose. After all, the original Jane Miller had never found a vaccine by hanging around the protagonist.

The sound of gunfire brought him out of his mind.

Frowning at the disturbance, Ira closed his backpack where he had shoved his newest acquisitions in.

He swallowed the last of the wine and dropped the bottle on the floor. 

He didn't feel a thing.

Being a System, he had turned off his ability to become intoxicated before he had started drinking the actually really good-tasting wine. As such, he was not in the least bit drunk, despite having drank an entire bottle of the stuff.

Ira swung the backpack over his shoulder and exited the store.

On his map, he could see a group of dots hurrying in his direction. Based on their color, they were ordinary humans.

But there was a whole pack of zombies chasing after them.

Depositing his backpack inside the store right by the door to keep it safe, Ira positioned himself by the corner outside of the store, waiting for the humans to come running right passed him as they switched streets. Before long, he could hear them coming, someone shouting commands, the sound of their feet hitting the ground, and the gunfire that only rose in volume the closer they came.

Smirking at thought of the carnage to come, he took out the knife he had found in the backpack as well. Bending his knees, all that was left to do was wait.

It didn't take long.

Within seconds, the humans ran right beside him as they fanned out and ran behind cover. Ira watched with one eye as they rose their guns and aimed at the pack of zombies coming ever closer.

Ira waited until all of the zombies — numbering in the twenties — had moved passed him as well and out into the open street. Unable to keep his grin of excitement to himself, Ira pushed off from the wall and rushed to the nearest one, not wasting a second before he stabbed the knife through the base of the skull and up, penetrating the brain instantly and turning the zombie into just another corpse that dropped to the ground, motionless, as soon as he let go.

The sound disturbed the other zombies and a few turned around to try to catch him, but by that point, he was already moving to the next one.

These were low-level zombies, which meant that they had yet to evolve to the point where they were dangerous one-on-one. As long as Ira didn't get caught by them, he had the advantage. And Ira always used it.

He could hear the humans stopping their shooting, heard them calling out for him to move out of the way if he didn't want to be shot as well, but Ira ignored them.

It wasn't difficult, having as much fun as he was.

Ira moved between the many zombies, bringing them down one after the other, aiming for the knees and spine when he couldn't get a clear aim for their head. He was virtually dancing between them, completely unconcerned about the blood that covered him before long.

Oh, this was just the absolute  _best_.

 


	33. 4.2

It took approximately five minutes for Ira to kill all of the zombies. At the end of it all, when he was standing in what was basically a pool of blood and guts and corpses, Ira breathed erratically, his new body not used to such strenuous activities.

Swallowing back the crazed laughter that wanted to erupt between his teeth, Ira swayed a little on his feet before he got back his balance. He dragged one of his hands through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes and spreading zombie blood all over himself. To be fair, he was already covered in it so it didn't really make a difference. 

Silence settled over the street ones more.

It was interrupted by the sound of footsteps stepping around an overturned car. The soldier that met Ira's sight looked like all stereotypical soldier's in a zombie apocalypse. 

Like he was one wrong step away from shooting his own troops.

Ira rose a bloodied eyebrow at the man and said, "Wonderful weather, isn't it?"

He got a machine-gun pointed at himself in response.

"Who are you?" the soldier asked harshly, his every body part exuding suspicion.

Ira shrugged his shoulder, ignored the gun and vented back into the convenience store to get his backpack. While putting it on, he answered a vague, "Nobody special."

Well, this body wasn't.

"Don't mess with me!" the soldier suddenly yelled out, the gun waving with his unsteady hands. "Tell me the truth! How did you do that?!"

Ira exited the store and shrugged his shoulder again. Like he actually kept track of every single one of his abilities. Yes, sure, there was an automatically updated index in his data mass about himself that was updated whenever he leaned something new, but he didn't actually check it out or anything. He just let it grow on its own. He had even turned off the notifications from it, because it was really annoying.

Every other minute, there would be a beep and a note he had learned a new skill or fact or rumor. Seriously, who wanted to hear that all of the time?

No-one sane.

There were even notifications for _jokes_.

It was enough to drive the sanest System mad.

Thankfully, Ira was no longer tormented by its vicious actions. Letting his eyes drift over all of the soldiers surrounding him and pointing their weapons at him, Ira narrowed his eyes. 

He wanted a gun, too.

A machine-gun would be even better, but he did know the meaning of the word moderation, unlike a lot of his Hosts.

Should he kill them and take their weapons? Or take their weapons and leave them to their deaths? Maybe he should knock them out and take their weapons? Regardless, he really wanted those weapons.

He was going to get them, one way or another.

"If I joined your group, would I get a machine-gun?" Ira asked, deciding to risk it. If it was a no, he would just take one by force. He couldn't really cart more than one around, after all. He had gotten ahead of himself in his eagerness.

It was another soldier that asked, "With those skills, why would you need one?"

Ira blinked, confused. "Because I want to shoot things. It's fun."

For some reason, the soldiers had looks of exasperation on their faces. Ira didn't get it. What other reason could there possibly be to get a machine-gun? Obviously, it was because it was fun and amusing to shoot at people. Preferably when they were already running around. Zombies made ideal targets, especially as they evolved.

The unsteady soldier with the machine-gun was the one that stated, "You're insane."

"No." Ira said. "You are."

He really looked like he was. He had that wild look in his eyes that said he was breaking from the things he was seeing and experiencing. Possibly, he had been a good soldier before the outbreak — after all, the others seemed to look up to him — but right now, he was a ticking time-bomb.

Ira really wanted to see him blow.

"So?" Ira asked. "Can I join? And get a machine-gun? I'm willing to settle for a rifle if I must, but I absolutely want a gun." 

This time, a female soldier answered, "You know what, yes. We can always use the help."

"Wait! We can't trust him! You saw what he did to those zombies! How do we know he won't kill us in our sleep?!" it was the ticking time-bomb that burst out with a whole slew of irrational objections.

Her eyes glowing with determination, the female soldier answered harshly, "That's exactly why we need him! Captain, we're dying here!" her voice lowered as she continued in a somber tone. "We've already lost a third of our troop. We can't keep going like this. Somebody with his skills, who is not dependent on a limited amount of ammunition and doesn't freeze up when faced with human-looking zombies, it's vital right now. If we want to survive, we _need_ his help."

Ira wished he had popcorn right now. It felt like he was in a cinema, watching a movie. Perhaps he should see if there was any in the convenience store?

The ticking time-bomb asked, "More than you need me?"

"Of course not." the woman reassured him quickly. "But, Captain, we want to live. And we need more than one egg in the basket to manage it."

"Fine!" the man bit out between clenched teeth. "But don't say I didn't warn you when he throws you to the zombies!"

"We won't." the woman stated and turned around to smile at him, her short hair fluttering like a dark curtain around her face from the wind. "What's your name?"

"Ira." he saw no reason to use the original body's name when nobody even knew who he was.

And if anybody called bullshit, he'd just claim it was a nickname. It was, after all, true. Only new System still used their designations these days. It was going wildly out of style.

Nothing like when he was young and _everybody_ used them.

Time really flew on by, didn't it?

"Before we leave," Ira said and pointed behind himself. "I'm going to get some popcorn. You just wait here. It won't take long."

Nobody answered him.

Ignoring the weird looks and silence, Ira entered back into the store and searched the shelves until he found what he was looking for. Smiling and feeling pleased with himself, he grabbed a couple of boxes and shoved them down into the already full backpack. It now looked like it was on the edge of bursting at the seams. Ira hoped it wouldn't, because then he would have find another one, and he was feeling lazy after all of that killing.

He exited the store with the pack hanging over one of his shoulders and gave the soldiers waiting for him a hard look. "Where's my machine-gun?"

"Here." the woman held out a rifle to him. "We only have one machine-gun, so you can't have it, but you said this would be alright too, didn't you?"

Ira nodded and took the gun with reverent hands.

This was _awesome_.

He smiled, unable to contain his excitement, and said, "Thank you!"

When people voluntarily gave you weapons capable of mass-murder, you said _thank you_. It was simple manners.

Ira kept a hold of the gun and brought it up, testing the aim and feeling the weight of it. This was just the best. Ira should have dragged his Hosts to zombie worlds earlier. He wondered, could he find another zombie world after this one? There were so many variations of it, so many different causes, that there should be plenty of them out there. He would just have to adjust the parameters when searching for new worlds to enter and it should be easy.

Ah, he couldn't wait. He was feeling so exited now.

Ira swung the rifle over his shoulder, the way he had seen plenty of people do with swords and asked, "So, do you have a camp or something? Or were you just running blindly."

There were, now that he bothered to actually count them, seven of them standing around him in a loose circle. One woman and six men, all of them clearly trained professionals in the art of killing, and all of them looking tuff and on edge. Most of them were tanned too, making him think they spent a lot of time outside.

"There are more of us at camp, we're just the scouting squad. We were supposed to find necessities." the woman answered easily.

Ira nodded in understanding and then followed behind them as they followed the same way back that they had come. At least they knew it was relatively clear, considering that the zombies who could had followed after them from there.

Even when they jogged at a fairly high speed, it still took them about half-an-hour to get to the camp.

It was located just outside of the small city, hidden from any roads in a forest clearing, and at the camp was waiting three more people, all of them male. Ira was starting to see a pattern of discrimination, which made no sense, because the female soldier was the only one he trusted to have actual skills at this point.

She was the only that didn't look like she was one sudden move away from shooting him.

The men rose from they had been sitting at different positions at the camp when they arrived, and then guns was pointed at him again. This was becoming a routine, huh.

It was the man furthest back from the scouting squad that asked, "Who's he?"

"This is Ira." said the woman and pointed her gun back at them. "He'll be staying with us from now. Don't worry, he will be very helpful."

"Are you serious?" another man asked, still pointing his gun. Sadly, it was not a machine.gun nor a rifle, so Ira wasn't very interested in it. "What, are we taking in strays now? We don't have the resources to look after more people, and you know it, Judy!"

"He's no idiot." she snapped back. "He can get his own resources and we've already seen him kill multiple zombies in minutes without a gun. He'll have to work to earn food and shelter, just like the rest of us."

At that, they finally settled down, and the guns were, sadly, pointed elsewhere. Ira took that as his cue to approach the camp and sit down next to the fire-pit.

He took out a pack of popcorn from a box, calculated how warm the fire was and how the distance, and then he grabbed one of those grabbing-sticks and held it over the fire until his timer dinged and he pulled it back. Opening it, he was assaulted by the smell of popcorn, and without any further ado, he grabbed a handful of them and stuffed them in his mouth.

They were still warm.

Sighing in pleasure, he chewed and swallowed, only to repeat the procedure.

Someone clearing their throat obnoxiously loudly got his attention and he directed his sight to the man now standing next to him. In his pleasure, he hadn't payed any attention and hadn't noticed him. It was the unsteady guy with the machine-gun, though he was no longer carrying it.

What a pity. If Ira had a machine-gun, he would never let it go.

"What do you think you are doing?" the man asked harshly, his dark eyes glaring with distaste.

Ira swallowed his latest handful and answered, "Eating popcorn."

"This is, this is the middle of a _fucking_ zombie apocalypse like out of stupid horror movie, and _you're eating popcorn!_ What the hell is wrong with you?!" the man burst out, his voice echoing over the clearing.

He was immediately hushed by his comrades.

Ira blinked a little at the suddenness of the yelling. "I like popcorn." he defended himself.

It was a perfectly reasonable reason, wasn't it? He liked popcorn, so when he could eat it for free, why wouldn't he?

Really, these people. They had no common sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to see more of Ira, check out my story _For the Ages _, an AU of this wherein Ira is a vampire! *gasp*__
> 
> __~Dez_ _


	34. 4.3

The next morning, after spending a night sleeping under the stars on a the hard ground, Ira woke up and yawned while fluttering his eyelashes. He blinked sleepily and looked around the camp, absentmindedly checking the map for any nearby zombies.

Killing zombies was the best way to wake up.

He grumbled when he saw that there was no zombie close by and stretched as he sat up, cracking his neck and back and yawning once more. Ira looked around the camp at the tired soldiers surrounding him, sitting and talking quietly around the fire, their voices low and somber. Turning up the volume, he shamelessly eavesdropped on them.

Apparently, they had lost contact with one of their scouting parties late last night, and now they were being sent after them by their superiors. They were in the middle of arguing over whether it was worth it or not.

Ira stood up from the ground and wandered over to his backpack. He dug through it and smiled when he saw the box of cereal and the cartoon of yoghurt. 

Sitting down on the ground, he grabbed one of the solder's bowls and got his breakfast ready.

The argument was escalating, as more than one of them wanted to abandon their posts to track down their families. Ira watched on like it was a TV show, his boring brown eyes wide with interest and his lips quirked up into a smile. They were being so dramatic and their shouting match was attracting zombies, a horde of them that increased in numbers every time one of them yelled out something. He scooped yoghurt and cereal onto a spoon and bit down on it, chewing while he watched the dots on the map get closer every passing minute.

Eventually, they seemed to reach come sort of accord, where one of the lot snarled in many peoples faces. The female soldier sighed visibly and went over to Ira. She stared down at him and said, "I realized that we haven't introduced ourselves. I'm Amanda-"

Before she could say anything else, another soldier with binoculars called out a sharp warning, "Zombies incoming!"

"Shit!" she swore loudly and barked out, "How many?!"

The soldier responded, "About forty of them!"

The soldiers had already began to pack away their equipment and while Ira watched, they doubled their speed and hurried around like their backsides were on fire.

"How soon?!" Amanda demanded.

"Five minutes!" the soldier answered and gripped his gun tightly.

"Damnit!" Amanda dragged her hand through her hair and kicked the ground while she loaded her gun with more bullets. "There's not enough time to run. Somebody wake up the captain!"

Another soldier flew into a tent and the loud cursing as the captain woke up could be heard even outside of it. Ira continued to calmly eat his breakfast, keeping his attention on the map and making sure to swallow properly. In the past, when he was in a hurry, it happened that he swallowed his food down the wrong pipe, which just was no fun at all.

He finished his meal just as the first zombie broke through the tree-line.

Immediately, they were shot in the head and fell down in a graceless heap on the forest floor. Cracking his neck again, Ira stood up on his feet and patted down his pants to make sure they weren't about to break on him.

It had taken him a good hour to get the blood out of his hair yesterday, and he had gotten a lot of glares from the soldiers as he wasted all of that water. His clothes, though, were a lost cause.

They were still absolutely drenched in dried zombie blood.

More zombies broke through the tree-line, in ever increasing numbers, and soon there were too many for the soldiers to get clear headshots of them all. With the scent of live humans egging them on, they stumbled forwards surpassingly quickly with their hands outstretched in front of them, as if searching for something to grasp.

Their blind eyes were rolling in all directions, a futile attempt to _see_ their prey.

The soldiers cursed and ducked away while they continued to barrage the zombies with bullets, as if they had an unlimited supply of them. Their faces were pale, but the woman — Amanda — was the only one that seemed to have her head on straight, her face harsh with determination and unceasing in her methodical shooting, never wasting a single bullet.

Ira wondered if he was supposed to help. But nobody had told him to do anything, so should he just stand here, waiting for it to end? It wasn't like he cared if they lived or died. But on the other hand... _zombies!_

Living targets, just a few meters in front of him, stumbling around like fools! Sure, he had killed a whole bunch of them yesterday, but the fun of killing never rally went away, did it?

While thinking about it, he went to a tall tree and wedged his backpack stuck hanging from a branch, so he wouldn't lose it in the chaos. He licked his lips, feeling the urge to shed blood start heating the blood in his veins, and _grinned_. 

This was a world he never wanted to leave.

Ira rolled up his sleeves in an attempt to spare them from more blood and while the soldiers were screaming in fear as they ran out of bullets one after the other, he threw himself into the bloodbath and laughed. He wrenched himself in between two different zombies, grabbed them and smashed their heads together, laughing at the image of their heads bouncing. Turning, he threw them into different oncoming zombies and grabbed ahold of his knife, stabbing up under the chin, straight into the brain of a zombie and kicking another in the knees to make it fall.

He weaved between the corpses, having the time of his life, as he killed one after the other. By the time all of the zombies were dead, Ira was once more covered in dead blood and smelling like decay. He didn't stop moving until all of the zombies were truly dead, as their dots disappeared from his map.

Finally, he just stood, alone, in the middle of a sea of corpses, his head tilted up to the sky, his eyes half-lidded and a smile twisting his lips.

The only thing he could hear was the sound of his own breathing and his heart thumping in his chest. He smiled up at the sky, his chest heaving from all of the effort, and his blood singing in his veins. He could barely believe what a good time he was having.

This was basically like a vacation!

He got to kill a whole bunch of things and people, nobody could blame him for murdering those already infected and he could burn whole cities down to the ground if he wanted to! 

Ira bent down until he was squatting, dragging the knife over the ground to get rid of some of the blood before he returned it to its sheath. Otherwise, it could very well get stuck in there, and while hilarious, he didn't want to have to find another knife.

He had fond memories with this one.

Call him sentimental, but he was getting attached to it.

Once he returned it to his sheath, he brushed both his hands through his hair, forcing the sticky hair out of his face, giving it a slicked back appearance with a red sheen. 

When he turned back toward the camp, he found all of the soldiers staring dumbfounded at him.

Raising an eyebrow, he tilted his head to the side and asked, "What?"

"Pfft!" for some reason, Amanda immediately started laughing, her whole body shaking with the motions.

Ira looked between the many soldiers, unable to understand what was so funny, and bewildered by their odd reactions. They had already seen him kill a bunch of zombies before, why were they looking so surprised?

The youngest soldier out of the bunch raised a shaky finger and pointed at him, whispering, "Demon."

Ira blinked.

"What?" he furrowed his eyebrows, still confused.

Amanda just laughed more.

Narrowing his eyes, Ira walking directly over the corpses, stepping on them when needed, to get back to where he had left his backpack hanging. While the others stared at him with wide and disbelieving eyes, wariness written all over their faces, Ira snatched the backpack out of the air and checked it over to make sure that it had survived intact.

Breathing more easily now that he knew that he didn't need to worry about it, he took a wet wipe from it and started wiping off his face, getting the blood off before it dried completely to the best of his abilities without a mirror.

When Ira released it to the forest floor, it was completely covered in blood, colored a dark red. He took out another one and dragged it through his hair, trying to get _some_ of it out at least.

He didn't feel like going through what he had yesterday in order to get it out again, so if he missed anything, he would just leave it there. It wasn't like he was bothered by the smell of blood coming from his hair anyway.

Once his hands and knife were clean as well, he turned back to the group of soldiers and asked flatly, "So what do we do now?"

"We get on the road." Amanda — who had apparently recovered from her laughing fit — stated.

Ira nodded in acknowledgement and hummed.

The other soldiers finally woke up from their stupors and hurried over to get all of the equipment that had survived. They walked warily around the pile of zombie corpses, but managed to gather everything in an impressively short amount of time.

Soon, they were trekking through the forest, Amanda bringing up the rear together with Ira. The captain had demanded that he went last, protecting them from attacks from the back and he hadn't seen a reason to disagree so he listened. He wasn't sure why Amanda was hanging back with him, but she wasn't a total loser like the others, so he would deal with it.

"Our transportation isn't far." Amanda reassured him, as if he had been worried about it.

Ira didn't bother with a response.

She smiled at him and asked, "Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"Around." Ira drawled, fully aware that it was frustrating answer.

She huffed, but she didn't look angry at him. "Is that so?"

"Yes." 

Smiling, she said, "Alright. I'll buy that. Is there anywhere in particular you want to go? Somebody that you want to find?"

Ira stepped over a large root and hummed before he answered, "Well, I suppose there is one person I'm looking for. It would be _interesting_ , to find out if he exists here or not. An experiment, you know?"

"Is he someone you know well?" she asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"Don't know." Ira said and continued with, "He keeps telling me he loves me."

" _Oh_." Amanda sounded like she had just understood something. He wondered what. "Personally, I'm more partial to women, but if you like him, why not?"

Ira furrowed his brows. "I don't like him. I'm just curious if he would really follow me here."

"Did he say he would?"

Ira nodded. "He said he would follow me forever, no matter where I go."

"He sounds sweet. What's his name?" she asked.

Ira blinked and tilted his head. "I don't know."

"You don't know his name?" she sounded shocked and her eyes were staring at him in astonishment. 

For some reason, Ira felt the need to defend himself. "I can't remember it!"

"Why not?" now she just looked amused. "This guy loves you, right? The least you should do is remember his name."

"I only remember people I like." Ira stated and turned his gaze forward.

The other soldiers were very obviously listening to the entire conversation.

They were also giving him really judging looks. Why?

"Just..." Amanda put her hand on his shoulder and kept up with his speed effortlessly. "when you find this guy, ask for his name and _remember_ it this time, okay?"

"Fine." Ira drawled out in order to get her to stop talking about it.

It wasn't like he didn't know who he was looking for. It was Silas' soul, he just didn't know what his name was in _this_ world, if he was even here. 

For some reason, Ira didn't want to think about what his reaction would be if he wasn't.

It wasn't worth considering.

 


	35. 4.4

_They had tanks._

It was worth emphasizing. They had actual military tanks. Ira almost drooled as he climbed into one of them together with Amanda, sitting down next to her. Granted, they only had two tanks — they had to leave one behind because they were understaffed — but it was still cool. Ira's eyes were practically sparkling where he sat, trying to take in as much of the vehicle as possible.

He watched on as the tanks rolled down the road on the outside, crushing dirt, twigs and the occasional zombie in its path.

He wanted one.

Slowly but surely, they drove through the countryside, the soldiers sitting in tense silence, probably still thinking about the horror show the world had somehow turned into. Their heads were down and the looked like they couldn't believe what the world had come to.

The only one that managed to get any respect from Ira at all was Amanda, who seemed like she actually had her priorities in check and a handle on her own emotions. 

Being as they were stuck in a small vehicle and there wasn't anything to do, Ira took the opportunity to do his job and checked up on his Host. His physical eyes were closed and his breathing slow, giving the illusion that he was sleeping.

His Host was currently hiding out in a bathroom stall in a mall.

Ira couldn't resist quirking his lips in amusement and he watched on as she sat on the toilet seat, both her feet pressing against the door to keep it from being broken down by a really persistent zombie. Her eyes were blown wide with fear and the only reason that she wasn't screaming was because she was in severe shock. It seemed like she still hadn't adjusted to being in a zombie apocalypse world.

The group she was still running with were all over the mall, separated into smaller groups. Most likely, they had approached the mall in search of supplies, and failed to take into account how many people visited such a place daily.

The mall was overrun with zombies.

Screams were rising from different parts of the mall, as multiple members of the surviving group got mauled and eaten to death by zombies. Not a fun way to go.

Really, Ira couldn't understand what would make them think that it was a good idea to go to such a place. Even from outside, they must have seen all the cars in the parking lot, and the zombies through the windows, but somehow they still got it into their heads to go inside. What were they even hoping to accomplish?

Rolling his eyes, Ira continued his observing. It was still amusing, seeing them trying desperately to get out of the mall and survive, when it was a tragedy entirely out of their own making. Whoever got the idea of raiding a mall was essentially guilty of murder.

Eventually, after his Host had started crying and actually screaming in fear, another member of her group came by and bashed the zombie's skull in. 

Ira watched on as the man stared with cold eyes at his Host, before he finally offered her a hand and pulled her out of the stall. She stared at him with uncomprehending eyes, but followed after him obediently, tears still falling over her cheeks.

She was sniffling all the way out of the mall, while the large man killed zombie after zombie.

Yeah, she wasn't going to last long.

Over the following hours, his Host and her group fled desperately from the horde of zombies that followed after them from the mall. Only a handful of people had survived and managed to get out of the mall in the first place, and now even more were killed by the horde. In the end, the only reason his Host survived was because the man that had saved her in the bathroom knew how to ride a motorcycle and gave her a ride.

That man also happened to be the protagonist of the story.

When his Host and the male protagonist got back to their camp, she got severely yelled at. Apparently, she had been the one to convince them that raiding the mall was a good idea, and she had gotten some other, softer people on board. Now everyone blamed her, rightfully, for the many, many deaths.

Over half of their group had died as a result of her plan.

Ira was recording _everything_.

"Hey, Ira, wake up!"

Ira blinked his eyes open and removed his attention from his Host, finding Amanda standing in front of him, shaking his shoulder ever so slightly. 

"Change of plans." she said. "Headquarters wants us back at base, so we'll be making camp here and continuing tomorrow."

Ira hummed and asked, "What happened to the scouting party?"

"They attacked another troop. The whole party had been turned." Amanda stated and walked out of the tank, gesturing for Ira to follow.

He followed after her and took a bowl of soup from another soldier.

Sitting down on a conveniently placed log, Ira practically devoured the whole bowl, finding himself surprisingly hungry. Thankfully, Amanda glared at the soldier until he handed Ira a second helping of the meal, and Ira absentmindedly mumbled a thanks.

With all of the fighting and killing, he had been getting much more exercise in this world then he usually did on missions. 

After eating, he found a nice comfortable piece of grass-covered ground to sleep on and settled down to do just that. He yawned, more tired than he thought he was, and watched on with half of his attention as his current group of comrades — human shields — moved around the camp to set up a proper perimeter.

He got quite a lot of stinking looks for his perceived uncaring attitude but he didn't care. He was tired, so he was going to sleep. If a zombie got too close, his map would alert him and he would automatically wake up.

The next morning, they set off to continue their journey.

Ira yawned through the first over in the tank, having gotten up way to early thanks to the shooting of the soldiers as the zombies got close, which just attracted more of them.

How they hadn't made that connection yet, Ira didn't know.

Perhaps they were just naturally stupid.

Even when Amanda used her head and tried to get the others to stop shooting all of the zombies, the captain of the troop intervened and kept the soldiers going. Ira didn't know why, but that man was getting closer to death each and every day.

Regardless, it didn't take them much longer to reach the aforementioned base.

Three days of journey over the roads in tanks, and they arrived.

The base was surrounding by high walls, overturned cars and barbwires. Ira admired the efficiency of it through the front window of the tank he was in. Amanda had taken over driving for the last few hours, as the previous driver got rest. They had been driving the whole night at this point, and all of them seemed exhausted. It didn't help that they all tended to wake up shivering and muttering about monsters every other hour.

They really weren't handling the whole zombie apocalypse thing well.

Well. It was their loss.

The gigantic gates were opened for them when they arrived. Ira watched on with avid interest as they drove through and he got his first look at a base in a post-apocalyptic world. Well, his first look in a some thousand mortal years or so. Depending on what number base one used.

Anyway, the base was well protected by a couple thousand soldiers, hundreds of them lining the walls and keeping watch, while others ran around outside to kill the zombies that got too close. It was one of the larger bases in this world, though not the largest. That was reserved for a base in New Zealand.

They had done remarkably well, over there.

Humming, Ira sat still on his seat with his eyes wide as the tank bumbled along. They passed quite a lot of people as they drove through what seemed like the beginning of farmland. Plenty of people were walking over the dirt and hauling buckets of water around.

They rolled to a stop and the soldiers in the back of the tank immediately jumped out. Ira and Amanda followed after them slowly.

There was an old woman with a clipboard standing by the side of the road waiting on them.

" _Ahem_." she cleared her throat loudly. "Captain Wallace? You're to debrief the general now."

The captain stepped out between the people and approached the woman steadily.

After the captain had disappeared, the old woman with a head full of grey hair and glasses turned her disapproving eyes on the rest of the gathered people. She cleared her throat again and ordered, "You are all to report to medical for a full check-up."

Amanda nodded and grabbed a hold of Ira's arm to make sure he followed after her. Ira found it a little unnecessary, but he didn't protest.

At the center of the large base, there was an old house, rising above the other buildings like an ominous sign. Ira liked it, and he liked the dark color of it as well. He followed after the other soldiers into the building, Amanda's hand still on his arm. Inside, they were greeted by the general chaos of a hospital in the post-apocalyptic era. 

Nurses were running to and fro, doctors and scientists were staring at various tablets and discussing depressing topics in somber tones while soldiers guarded every door to make sure that if anyone managed to slip through the screening and turned, they wouldn't get far.

A nurse spotted them and ran over. She huffed at them and said roughly, "Follow me."

They followed after her until they got to a room. She opened the door and shoved them inside, and then she said, with a completely serious face, "Get naked."

Ira turned to raise an eyebrow at Amanda. 

"It's standard procedure, nothing to worry about, I assure you." she smiled at him and pointed to a serious of cubicles on the other side of the room. "Just go behind a sheet over there and get undressed. There's a robe inside you can put on, and then a doctor will come and get you when it's your turn. I'll tell them your name and situation and there shouldn't be any problems."

"If you say so." Ira shrugged his shoulders and entered behind one of the sheets to get undressed. 

While he was in the middle of pulling off his shirt, Amanda called, "Pull the curtain closed!"

Ira turned around and saw her staring at him while smiling. He sighed, but pulled the curtain sheet closed, figuring that it was probably just another one of those human things that he didn't understand. What did it matter whether the sheet was closed or not? It was just a sheet. It wasn't like it would be able to stop anyone from getting in.

Whatever. He didn't care enough to keep thinking about it.

Once he was undressed and he had pulled on the short robe, tying it around his waist and trying not to wonder who had worn it last, because he could still smell the blood on it, he exited the tiny booth and found a place to sit and wait.

One by one, the soldiers got called out by someone on the other side of the door, until it was just Ira left, sitting alone in the dark. 

Because he couldn't be bothered to turn on the lights once night fell.

Eventually, the voice called, "Ira Smith."

Ira rose an eyebrow at the uncreative last name, but still rose from his seat and approached the door. He pushed it open and found a doctor in a white lab coat on the other side. It was a man, at least a head taller than his current body, if not more. With scruffy black hair and a pair of smudged square glasses sitting on his nose, he looked like the stereotypical scientist.

The man introduced himself, his voice sounding tired, as, "Doctor Jacob Cornelius."

Ira blinked in shock, but shook the man's hand when it was offered dutifully.

So Silas was a doctor in this world? Interesting.

 


	36. 4.5

Ira followed Silas to another room.

He followed all the way to the other side of the building, where they entered through a white door and he found himself in a typical examination room, if his movies were correct. Ira didn't usually make it a point to pay attention when his Hosts were in the hospital, at least not when it was just a check-up. If it was something more serious, he would look over only to revel in their misery.

He settled down on a sheet covered gurney and waited for Silas to make the first move. 

Instead, Silas wandered over to grab some kind of machine.

Ira frowned. "What's that?"

"An ECG machine." Silas answered while pulling it over. There were so many cords, in so many different colors attached to it that Ira almost got confused.

Ira watched as Silas grabbed a packet of something and held it up. Then Silas said, "Pull off your shirt and socks."

Ira rose an eyebrow in amusement, but dd as Silas commanded. He pulled off his shirt and his socks, laying down on the gurney after he was done. Then he observed as Silas stuck small pads — about two centimeters in diameter — on his skin while counting his ribs. The man continued to put them on his wrists and ankles as well.

While Ira tried to figure out what they were for, Silas started messing with the many, many chords, pulling them apart and then attaching them in some particular order he wasn't privy to. First the colorful ones on his chest, and then white chords for his wrists and ankles.

A beep came from the machine, and Silas very dutifully paid attention to it.

Yawning, Ira wondered if the man would be angry with him if he were to fall asleep.

A couple of minutes later, Silas finally stopped staring at the screen and turned back to face Ira. Silas immediately stated, "Everything looks fine."

"You mean I'm not going to turn into a zombie?" Ira frowned at that. He kind of wanted to, just imagine all of the things that he could do. He could take over the entire zombie population and become the Zombie King, he could eat humans to his hearts content, he could find fights wherever he went.

"No." 

Silas deadpanned and started pulling out the chords, and then ripping off the cold pads, which barely tickled him. After that, Silas started to use paper to clean the areas the pads had been stuck on, as they were all sticky now.

Ira just laid back and left him to it.

Eventually, he was clean again and Silas stepped back. Silas cleared his throat and pushed up his glasses on his nose.

Ira furrowed his brows in confusion, but nevertheless sat up and watched as a complicated expression that he couldn't decode emerged on Silas's face. Then Silas said, "Wait here."

And then he left.

Ira tilted his head a little, but didn't give it any more thought.

Instead, he took the opportunity to check up on his Host. Currently, she was on the road, headed toward a rumored base. Not the base that Ira was at though, considering that they were on opposite ends of the country.

Which was a blessing.

Because otherwise he would probably be tempted to kill her, as opposed to now, when he just watched her as if she was in a TV show.

It didn't take long for Silas to return.

Ira watched on with half-opened eyes as Silas entered the room and locked the door after himself. There was a black box in his hands, the kind that had a highly advanced biometrics lock plus required a long string of code.

Ira narrowed his eyes a little. "What's that?"

"A vaccine."

Ira rose an eyebrow. "For what?"

Silas put the box down on a desk and started to unlock it while answering, "A particularly vicious case of the flu that has been going around the base. Everyone is getting the vaccine for it."

"Okay." Ira nodded in understanding. That sounded reasonable.

He tended to forget, put his bodies had actually died from the flu before. Many times. 

It sucked.

Pulling out a large syringe, Silas approached Ira with it and said, "Pull down your sleeve over your shoulder."

Ira did as he said, watching as the syringe got closer. It was truly very big, and the fluid inside was almost grey. Was that truly what flu vaccine looked like? Must be, but it wasn't like it mattered. If it was some kind of poison, he would just change body's, no big deal.

When the vaccine entered his system, it stung. Ira couldn't resist grimacing at the glaring pain that immediately started emanating from his shoulder. 

It almost felt like he had been stabbed.

" _Ugh_." Ira pulled up his arm — the one that didn't feel like lead — to press his hand over his eyes. Suddenly, his head hurt like an elephant had stepped on it. He clenched his eyes shut and tried to press them back into his skull. Did flu vaccine always hurt this bad?

No wonder so many people were afraid of shots.

Ira leaned over and he vaguely noted that he was about to fall out of the gurney, when he was caught in a pair of strong arms. 

Silas was humming.

He could hear it over the loud thumping sound of his heartbeat. Silas was holding him in his arms, repositioning him so that he was sitting in Silas's lap, and humming to him. And despite his expectations, it actually made him feel a little better. Or at least, it gave him something else to focus on.

Actually this was kind of nice. Sitting bundled up in Silas's arms with him humming was a new experience and he found that he liked it.

Maybe he shouldn't turn off his ability to feel pain...

Ira didn't know how much time passed like that — to be more precise, he tuned out his inner clock — and just waited for the pain to pass. Despite the utter agony every single bone in his body was going through, he was feeling quite comfortable. And despite the fact that he must be pretty heavy and that they had been sitting for at least an hour, Silas never once stopped humming to complain.

Finally, the pain started to dissipate.

Ira breathed out deeply and sank deeper into Silas, feeling himself relax even more.

"Are you okay?" Silas's voice broke through the silence, disturbing him from where he was about to fall asleep.

Ira just burrowed deeper into Silas's shoulder. "Mhmm."

He felt Silas grab a hold of his head, and pull it back so that he was forced to look Silas in the eyes. The man was frowning, and he pulled Ira's head in different directions and seemed to be particularly interested in his eyes. 

"There doesn't seem to be any complications." he said at last, and his hands changed positions, so that they were framing Ira's face. 

Ira's eyelids were still dropping, sleep begging him to come. He watched on with unfocused eyes as Silas bent closer and just rested their foreheads together. What was this? Some kind of human ritual he had never witnessed before?

Regardless, he was still tired. Outside through the window, he could see that night had already fallen. 

Ira closed his eyes and leaned his entire weight on Silas, feeling sleep beckoning him. 

When he woke up, he was somewhere else.

For the first time in a while, he felt completely safe and utterly encased in warmth. He didn't understand why. Nonetheless, he saw no reason not to take advantage of it and snuggled deeper into the heat, sighing in pleasure when he felt something embrace him in return, only making him warmer.

For the next hour or so, he just dozed, snuggling with the warmth and relaxing. There was not a bone in him that wanted to move. In the end, it was his growling stomach that finally made him open his eyes.

"Mhm?" Ira made a questioning sound as he opened his eyes and found himself laying on a comfortable bed, curled together in the arms of Silas, who was staring at him with an strange look in his eyes. He wasn't wearing his glasses, so Ira got a good look at those dark brown eyes. It felt, somehow, like they were sucking him in.

Silas smiled at him, "Are you hungry?"

"Mhmm." Ira nodded and felt his eyes start slipping close again.

He was just so tired. He wondered why.

"Come on." Silas said and started untangling them from each other and the covers. "I'll make breakfast."

Then Silas slipped out of the bed and left Ira on his own. Ira whined a little in the back of his throat, but obediently wiggled out of the bed himself too. He was, after all, very hungry, having not eaten for almost an entire day. For some reason, nobody had let him eat while in the tank.

He followed after Silas into another room, utterly unconcerned with his nakedness. He figured Silas must have had a good reason for undressing him, but he supposed it was one of those things that had to be asked anyway. Or, at least his Hosts always panicked and demanded answers when they woke up naked somewhere, despite knowing full well what had happened and that it was all their fault. Literally.

"Why am I naked?" Ira asked Silas as they entered the small kitchen.

Silas turned around and his eyes widened behind the glasses he was now wearing again. "Why haven't you gotten dressed?"

"Was I supposed to?" Ira asked, tilting his head to the side and trying to get a good look at the place he was now in. Well, there was nothing wrong with it, so he supposed this would have to do.

Now that he had found Silas, he had no intention of letting go of him again.

He was in the middle of an experiment, after all.

Silas crossed out of the kitchen, over to another room, and came back a few seconds later with a large shirt and a pair of pants. Without wasting any time, he held them out to Ira and demanded, "Put them on."

Ira rose an eyebrow and did as ordered. Right where he stood, because he saw no reason to go anywhere else. Silas made a weird sound and turned around abruptly.

Once Ira was completely dressed, he said to Silas, "I'm finished."

"Good." Silas turned back toward him and nodded in satisfaction when he saw that Ira hadn't lied. Ira wondered if he was supposed to be offended or not. This was another one of those situations where his Hosts always yelled and screamed a lot, and just generally tried to kill anyone that had seen them naked or tried to help them, while yelling "PERVERT!" at the top of their lungs.

Because that was a perfectly reasonable reaction in such a situation. No need to _thank_ the person who helped you, or be _grateful_ or anything.

Let's just go straight for murder.

And enslavement. They did that pretty often too.

Ira was really glad he did not have to actually spend a lot of time around them, and could get away with monitoring them from afar.

Otherwise, he probably would have been fired already.

Silas corrected a button that he had missed, and then apparently deemed him acceptable. After that, Ira was pushed over to the table in the middle of the room and he sat down with a shrug. If he didn't have to cook, that was only an advantage. 

Because his cooking sucked. Because he was a system.

Really, that was only to expected.

Systems didn't have to eat like humans did. They had _other_  forms of nourishment.

Silas put a bowl of cereal in front of him, along with a box of cold milk. Ira didn't wait for him to sit down to go straight for it, having the unsettling feeling that his stomach was attempting to eat itself. It was an odd sensation.

Not one that he would ever get used to.

Silas smiled at him over the table as they ate breakfast and Ira found that he quite liked this too.

 

 


	37. 4.6

Once they had eaten breakfast, and Ira had changed into another pair of clothes — at the behest of Silas who had seemed oddly concerned about it — they finally left the apartment and ventured out into the safety zone.

Now that he wasn't in a tank, he had a much better view of the buildings that they passed by while walking on the road. Silas was leading the way at a slow pace, giving Ira plenty of time to sightsee.

The military base was most certainly surrounded by strong walls, and there were even quarantine efforts around the place, so they could let in civilians.

Pretty soon they would have to start turning people away, though.

It had been a long time since he had been in an apocalypse world, as those never appeared in the Tutorial Mode, but he had seen videos by other Systems and their Hosts. In these videos, the Host always decided to set up a base, and then they let everyone who wanted to come in. Some of them at least had quarantine measures, but oddly, most of them didn't.

If the zombies — or whatever monsters their world had — didn't kill them, then overpopulation would.

Simply put, they let in too many people.

In short order, it led to food shortage, a drop in general hygiene and an abundance of homeless people. Soon after that, they started starving — because the Hosts couldn't stomach the idea of sending people out to their deaths. Then came diseases because of worsened hygiene and then people started killing each other inside, leading to general chaos until the base either changed ownership and became a dictatorship, or until the base fell.

Regardless, the Hosts were responsible for a lot of deaths, and that fact never seemed to sink in with them. They thought that just because they had good intentions, it absolved them of any guilt.

Apparently, they had never been informed that reality didn't work like that.

Ira followed Silas into another building, this one obviously a military facility and also equally obviously not the hospital. They walked passed officers and closed doors, army people standing guard everywhere. Ira didn't understand how they had enough personal in order for that to be possible. Were they pumping them full of drugs so they could last longer shifts?

Well, whatever. He didn't actually care.

Soon, they entered through another door, and then Ira was face to face with Amanda, the only competent soldier in the base.

"Ira!" She smirked at him. "I trust everything went well?"

Ira frowned. "With what?"

She rose an eyerbrow. "Your friend. Did you manage to find him?"

"Oh." Ira nodded and smiled just the slightest bit. Pointing at Silas, he said, "Yes. That's him, right there."

"Doctor Cornelius? That's lucky." she hummed.

"Why?"

"Because the doctor is a genius. The brass has high hopes he'll be able to manufacture a cure or vaccine for the Z-Virus, so he'll never lose his place or benefits here. If he cares for you, your safety is essentially guaranteed." Amanda sighed when she saw his disinterested look. "Suffice it to say, he has weight with the brass. He can get practically anything."

"Really?" Ira asked.

She gave him an exasperated look, "You don't need any more weapons."

Ira acted like he didn't hear her, in a very mature and adult way. She smiled at him as if they were sharing a secret.

She patted him on his shoulder and said, "Well, it was nice seeing you before we head out."

Ira frowned, "Where are you going?"

"Another base has called for reinforcements, so our squad is being sent in case anybody important needs a rescue. You don't have to worry, there are other people from other bases going too, they will be actually entering the base to help. We're just the backup." Amanda grinned at him.

Ira hummed and just when he was about to say something, Silas came back and put his hand on Ira's back.

Silas asked, "Everything okay?"

For some reason he sounded suspicious. Ira rose an amused eyebrow and answered, "It's fine. Amanda is just informing me she's got a mission."

Silas glared at Amanda. "Is that so?"

"Yes." she smiled at him, a hint of murder in her eyes.

Silas glared harder, hard enough that if he had magic, Amanda would be on fire right now. Ira kept in the laughter that wanted to escape at this overt show of human emotions through sheer force of will.

"Well!" Amanda chirped, sounding dangerously happy. "We'll be back before you know it, so I trust everything will be fine when we return? _Hmm_?"

Silas didn't respond, he just steered Ira away. As they moved away, Ira waved a little to Amanda, as a thank you for the entertainment.

She waved to him too.

"How do you know her?" Silas asked as they walked away through another door, leaving Amanda and her entertainment behind them.

"She gave me a ride here."

Silas gave him a weird look. "Is that all?"

"Mhm."

Silas gave him another weird look, before he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's fine. I assume she would kill me if anything were to happen to you. That makes her... acceptable, I suppose. How long have you know each other?"

Ira shrugged. "A few days?"

"You have no idea, do you?" Silas sounded amused, so Ira gathered that it wasn't a bad thing.

Ira just shrugged again.

They entered another room, a meeting room. There was a large oval table in the center with around twenty chairs. Multiple people were sitting in the chairs, and when they entered, they all turned around.

An old, balding man rose up and said, "Doctor Cornelius! We've been waiting for you! Where have you been? The meeting started over half-an-hour ago!"

"Oh, lay off him, would you!" an older, middle-aged woman sneered.

The bald man scoffed and demanded, "Have you found a cure yet?"

Silas pushed up his glasses and sat down on a chair at the end of the table. Ira sat down next to him.

"No." Silas deadpanned, without any use of tact. "I have found neither a cure nor a vaccine."

The old man puffed up like a furious cat. "Then-!"

"However," Silas glared at the man for his interruptions. "I am very close. I estimate a month of work and we should have working protoype for a vaccine. It's sad to say though, but I don't think I will ever be able yo manufacture a cure."

"Why not?" the most annoying man in the room demanded.

Silas gave him an exasperated look. "They're dead, sir."

The man fell back down on his chair, all of his air suddenly gone. There was really no answer to that.

The only woman in the room cleared her throat and said, "Whatever you need to get your vaccine working, just let us know. We'll make sure you get it."

Silas nodded in acknowledgement. "I'll get you a list."

Then he rose up, becuase apparently that was all he wanted out of this meeting. Before they could leave, though, the woman asked, "And who's this young man with you?"

"This is Ira. He's my husband."

Ira's body spun around in the blink of an eye and he stared with wide eyes at Silas. That was... actually a pretty good cover. If they thought they were married, npbody would protest him living with Silas, or get any romantic ideas. After all, even if it was only an experiment, Ira didn't share.

He wasn't an idiot like those morons who followed his Hosts around.

"Yes." Ira said and tried to smile happily. "We're married."

Silas gripped his hand and squeezed it. No more words were said and they left the meeting room without any trouble.

Ira followe along as Silas lead him back out the building, still holding his hand, wihtout any resistance. They walked across concrete roads, around tanks lining the streets in case they needed to evacuate in a hurry. They were already loaded with emergency rations that could last years.

They wouldn't taste good. But they would last.

Not to mention all of the barrels of clean water.

There were also trucks, big ones, sitting here and there. They were full the the brim with even more food, and Ira kind of wanted to sit in the driver's seat, just to find out what it was like.

How high up was it?

Silas had to drag him away from them, as ihe had stopped to stare at them, blocking the road. Some peaople were giving him mean looks, which they immediately ceased as soon as they caught sight of Silas. It was hilarious, how their expressions would go from furious and on the verge of screaming at him, to polite and smiling pleasantly.

As Silas steered him even further away from his home, Ira took the opportunity to look into his Host's actions. It was recording automatically, whether he checked in on her or not, but he thought that it was probably about time.

He zoomed in on her.

Yeah, no, _he_ _did not want to see that._

Gross. Ugh. Blegh. He was going to throw up. Disgusting.

Who had sex in the middle of a forest, not two meters from a dead corpse?!

He was never going to unsee that, was he? Thank the heavens that he was a System, as soon as he got back to his home, he could delete these images from his mind, no problem. Still, though, he kind of wanted to pour bleach into his head, and on his eyes, and scrub them raw.

"Are you okay?" Silas asked, giving him a look of concern.

Ira nodded, trying to look as if he wasn't dying of horror. Silas gave him an odd look, as if he didn't quite believe him, but thankfully he didn't press the issue. Ira did not want to talk about it. He never wanted to think about it again.

Disgusting!

He was two seconds away from retching, and so brought out another old recording of a past Host, watching their death with morbid amusement to take his mind off of the abomination that he had just witnessed.

If his Host didn't die in this world, he would kill her himself.

That was a promise.

Finally, they started walking again. Silas lead the waym and they entered a door that rose up out of the ground. Soon, they were underground, in a basement of some sort, cut off from the rest of the world. With his hearing set to the human standard in this world (he wanted to give the zombies a better chance of surprising him) he couldn't hear anything from outside of it.

There was a low buzzing throughout the whole structure, which he assumed was some sort of generator. Ira stared around with intrigued eyes, curious to see where Silas had lead him.

Soon, they stopped in front of a heavy metal door. Silas put in a code and it read both his fingerprints and his eyeballs before it opened.

"Follow me," he said and entered when the door opened. "and I'll add you to the lock. You'll be able to come and go as you please."

Ira nodded in understanding and entered after him.

It was a lab.

Correction, it was a _lab,_ the kind of lab belonging to a mad scientist in a comic book. In amusement, Ira rose an eyebrow and walked further in.

There were wats, dozens of them, spread out over a large area. They were filled with a green fluid, and in them, people floated, dead and in medically induced comas. Silas walked amongst them like he was used to it, checking screens as if what he was doing was perfectly normal.

"Hey, Silas." Ira leaned against a wat, the upper half of a human floating within. "What was that vaccine for, _exactly_?"

To his credit, Silas didn't protest against the use of the old name. But then again, he would probably always be Silas to Ira.

The other man answered easily, "A vaccine for the Z-Virus."

 


	38. 4.7

Ira furrowed his brow. "Really? I thought you said you didn't have one."

"I lied." Silas deadpanned.

Ira nodded in understanding and walked further into the lab. In his curiosity, he stopped several times to zoom in through the glass and observe the corpses in the wats. They floated uselessly, all of them pale and with stark black veins under their skin. Ira could see the rapid eye-movement of some of them, despite the fact that they had no pulse. 

"Are these zombies?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes." Silas responded easily, sitting by a desk and staring at a screen while typing away.

Ira hummed. "Why do you have them?"

"To study them, of course."

Humming again, Ira kept on walking. He stopped by another one and stared at the file of paper sitting next to it. Grabbing it, he leafed through it, automatically memorizing everything written in it.

"Do they know you have all this?" Ira wondered absentmindedly.

"Of course. Once I explained what I need them for, they were very helpful." Silas assured him.

Ira leafed through another file, going over the information in it quickly. He hummed in thought, letting his mind wander a little. Then he asked, "Do you already have a cure too, then?"

Silas didn't respond.

Ira went ahead and took that for a 'yes'.

He tilted his head as his mind wandered. If Silas already had a cure, then he supposed that his Host's mission really wasn't that difficult. Truly, if she wouldn't have to synthesize the cure herself, it would truly take a colossal screwup for her to fail. Then again, there had been no mention of a cure in the original version either...

On that note, Ira sent his focus out and searched out his Host. He tensed as he prepared to change his focus at the first sign of sex.

His Host and her group were in the middle of another raid.

Ira watched as they broke open a warehouse, which he could admit was a far better plan than the last one. Warehouses tended to have less people than malls.

"Clear!" his Host's voice rang out and she hurried in through a side door. A bunch of people with guns and metal crowbars followed after her, ready to defend her at the drop of a hat. 

Inside the warehouse, it was dark.

Another member of the group hit a light-switch and with the hum of electricity, the whole place was gradually lit up. The member of the group that had hit it breathed out in relief and commented, "There must be a backup generator."

"According to plan now, people!" the male protagonist announced. "Jack, Cody, if you see anything coming, stay hidden and call us on the walkies. Under no circumstances are you to shoot with your guns, it makes _far too much noise_. Just stay hidden, understood?"

Ira had to hand it to him, not totally braindead.

"Groups of three now, move out!"

With that, they advanced into the warehouse. Ira could see that at least one member in every group was carrying walkie-talkies. 

The tension among them was high as they split up, each of them with a cart of their own that a single member of group pushed while the other two kept look out with their weapons raised. All of them had put away their guns, and instead gripped handheld weapons like knives, crowbars and bats.

"Am I the only one that has a bad feeling about this?" one of the group members of his Host asked in a hushed voice.

"Shh!" his Host demanded.

The group member gulped and gripped their wooden bat tighter. 

His Host clenched her hand on the cart's handlebar. Ira rose an eyebrow in amusement and leaned against a wat so he wouldn't have to carry his whole weight. He watched as the two groups each filled their carts with food and clean bottles of water, squishing them full with every canned good that they could fit.

Ira wondered when their teeth would start falling out, considering not a single one of them picked up toothpaste of toothbrushes.

Or maybe they didn't think that that was a concern, because they would all die soon.

Who knew what went through the head of humans?

Ira rolled his eyes as the sound of something clanging made his Host and her group stand shock-still. His Host, who was the one carrying the walkie-talkie when she was also the one pushing the cart for some reason, froze and used the walkie-talkie to contact the male protagonist. The protagonist answered in a hushed voice, sounding annoyed even over an civilian walkie-talkie.

That was an accomplishment, because those things really weren't very good.

"It wasn't us." the protagonist said.

His Host's eyes widened and her voice trembled as she asked, "Then who was it?"

Ira had the vivid urge to strangle her.

"Quiet." the protagonist snapped at her. "Make your way back to the truck and load as many things in as you can. And when I tell you to leave, you do so, whether we're back or not, _is that clear?"_

The protagonist's static voice made it very clear that he wasn't kidding around. Still, Ira's Host got a stubborn look in her eyes and he could already tell that she was going to do something massively stupid.

All the more entertainment for him.

He smirked, and continued to watch on as more mysterious sounds scared the crap out of his Host. They hurried back to the truck and the two mob characters who had been guarding it helped them load everything in, and then his Host proved him right.

She went back in.

"What are you doing?!" a mob character hissed at her and gripped her arm tightly.

She tore herself loose and said, "We can still get more stuff."

"You're being greedy, just stay here until chief comes back." he insisted, but she didn't even look back.

His Host rolled the cart back into the warehouse and went back to loading it up with food. A sound from the walkie-talkie startled her and she gripped it tightly. "Chief?"

"Leave, leave now! They got in!"

His Host asked, "Who?!"

"The zombies, now leave!" the protagonist snapped back.

"I won't leave without you." his Host insisted while she turned the cart around and started making her way back to the truck parked just outside. 

Growls and the sound of running footsteps began to sound around her. She clenched her grip on the handlebars tighter and started to push the cart faster, but the sound just kept coming closer. A scream rose behind her, high pitched and utterly inhuman, and she stumbled, the slipping from her fingers and careening into a shelf.

It hit it with a loud bang.

Ira zoomed in so he could see her devastated face and hear the way that she kept mumbling the word _no_ in despair. She ran over to the cart frantically and gripped it, trying to move it back, but it was loaded with so much canned goods that she could barely move it, as the wheels under it refused to turn around. Cursing, she pulling at it, getting more and more desperate as the growls and footsteps approached her.

Finally, she could see the chief running toward her, followed by a whole herd of zombies, all of them right on his tail. When the protagonist saw his Host, he sneered at her and shouted, "Run!"

His Host stood frozen, staring at the oncoming herd like a deer in headlights.

The protagonist snapped, "Leave it and run! Now!"

Finally, when the herd was only three meters away from her, she fell out of her stupor and started running for the exit. 

Just a second after her, the protagonist ran out into the sunlight and slammed the thick door shut behind him. It locked automatically.

They breathed out in relief.

Then the protagonist snapped at his Host, "Idiot! Why did you go back?!"

"I-I thought we could get more food..." her voice got progressively lower as she spoke. She stared at the ground like a chastised child.

Ira took a picture.

The protagonist made a motion like he was going to hit her, but stopped himself at the last second. He scoffed loudly at her and stalked off to the truck, climbing into the drivers seat and dislocating a mob character. "Get in." he sneered at his Host.

She went to sit next to him, but the door was locked.

"Get in the back." the protagonist said and looked at her coldly. "Make sure its closed behind you properly."

She nodded with tearful eyes.

She took a step and then stopped. "What happened to the others?"

He glared at her. "Eaten."

She gulped and ran for the back of the truck. Ira saw her climbing in with the help of mob characters whose names he had already forgotten and watched as they closed the latch behind her. Then the truck started moving, just as the zombies broke through the door that had failed to lock properly.

Watching his Host sitting in the back of a truck wasn't very interesting, so Ira switched his focus and blinked a little as he used his physical eyes again. Silas was still sitting by the desk, writing something on the computer.

Curious, Ira stalked around it until he stood behind Silas and could easily see what he was doing.

Assuming Ira wasn't mistaken, there was some kind of DNA string on the screen. He squinted a little and frowned as he realized that it came from a zombie. That explained the weird sequence. 

Silas spun around on the chair to face him. "Want me to explain it to you?"

"I can figure it out on my own." Ira stated with a raised eyebrow and his lips quirked in amusement.

Silas nodded and said, "Then do you want to take a look?"

"Hm." Ira nodded and Silas rose from his seat. Ira settled down in it and spun it around to face the computer, staring at the data on the screen. It had been awhile since he was in a technology advanced world, and he generally didn't spend a lot of time thinking about things like this, but he was sure that he could still figure it out.

Silas put a hand on his shoulder. "I'll get you lunch."

Ira didn't respond, too far way in his mind.

Some time later, Silas returned with the aforementioned dinner. Ira ate it absentmindedly, busy with scrolling through the various amount of data on the computer. It wasn't really something that he was interested in, but for a world that didn't have magic or anything of the sort, it was certainly very impressive.

He felt Silas grab another seat and start working on another computer next to him. Ira could hear the clicking of the keyboard right beside him and the mumblings of Silas as the man's mind ran through problems.

Finally, Ira leaned back on his chair and said, "This is impressive."

"Really?" Silas turned towards him immediately and pushed up the glasses that were slipping down his nose. "It's not finished yet, I think I can still get the quality up..."

Ira smiled at him. "No, for the primitive technology, it's very impressive."

Silas beamed at him.

With his shaggy hair pulled back in a partial tail and his glasses on his nose properly, Silas really fit the image of a doctor or scientist. Ira was used to him having a much more demanding presence and being some sort of fighter, but this suited him oddly well.

Maybe that was because he was a _mad_ scientist?

Regardless, Ira didn't mind spending his time down here in a lab if that was what was necessary for his experiment. In fact, that could make it more fun. Being in a lab would make it have a more professional feeling to it, which made Ira have more fun.

He hadn't been a scientist of any kind for a long time. It wasn't something that he had missed, but it _had_ been fun.

Hmm, in the next world, should he see if he could find a mob character that was a scientist?

 


	39. 4.8

In the evening, they returned to the surface.

Ira yawned as they walked the streets under the starlit night sky, his hand held in Silas's and a series of pictures of his Host getting shunned in his mind. She was currently being kept at a distance by the other members of the group, all but a few of the women and children.

The women (exluding one of the mothers) seemed to think that his Host was being bullied because she was a _girl_ and not because she was useless. They were making her into a symbol they could sympathize with.

It was going to lead to a bloodbath.

Silas squeezed his hand. "Where has your mind wandered?"

"Murder."

Silas's body shook and Ira looked over, worried that he might be having a stroke or something equally human. But no, Silas appeared perfectly healthy, a glow to his cheeks as he burst out laughing.

Ira frowned. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing." Silas waved his free hand around. "It's just a very typical answer for you. Really, I should have expected it."

The suspicious glance he gave the man didn't result in anything.

Ira rolled his eyes and decided to ignore Silas.

A week later, Ira was in a bad mood.

His Host, the complete imbecile, had convinced the women of her group (excluding one) that the previous base they were aiming for was no good and then _they_ had convinced the men, their husbands or relatives or whatever, to head on to another one. A majority vote had destroyed the male protagonist's wish to keep going to the previous base. So now they were headed _here_.

To Ira's base.

Because Ira's life _sucked_.

He scowled. It was bad enough that his Host had met up with the protagonist's group earlier, but at least that was _expected_. He hadn't thought that she'd be able to convince the whole group to head to _his base_ when he told her his location. But his duty meant that when she asked, he had to answer honestly why he wasn't by her side, or his pay would get cut.

Scowling harder, his mind was focused on watching them creep ever closer to his location. They were barely an hour's carride away now, but hopefully the zombies would delay them. Or eat them.

Either would work fine.

There was only one silver lining to this whole mess. Some days ago, they had met up with Amanda's squad (minus a captain) so now he got to see Amanda getting increasingly more furious at his Host, the stupider she acted.

He had high hopes that Amanda would murder her.

Or push her into a horde of zombies.

He smirked, and felt Silas's hand pass through his hair. He leaned into it, having grown fairly comfortable with Silas's touch.

"For gods sake, would you _quit it?!"_ The same idiotic man as before screamed.

Another meeting, another argument. They wanted to have a solid timeline on the vaccine thing, and got more and more concerned with every meeting. Because Silas never gave them a stright answer, which was _hilarious_ to watch.

Well, Ira had only been present for three meetings so far. But apparently that was enough to infuriate the leaders of the base.

"Quit _what_ , exactly?" Silas's voice was cold as ice. When Ira looked over to his left, he could see that the man was gripping the table so hard that his hands were whitened and his jaw was clenched in... _something_ , Ira couldn't really tell. Rage, probably.

The idiotic man exclaimed, "Being so disgustingly in love! It's the end of the world, damn it! _Act like it!"_

"Ah..." Silas said, smirking. "You're jealous."

"No, I have _compassion_." the man glared at them, deflated like a balloon and dropped back in his chair.

Silas didn't respond.

The woman in the group cleared her throat. _"If that's all,"_ here, she glared at everyone. "then this meeting is concluded. We'll see you in a week, doctor Cornelius. Thank you for your time. We _are_ aware it's precious."

Another glare cowed everyone in the meeting.

The various people in charge of the base all let out breaths at the same time and rose from their seats. As they left, they all looked grim and broody, as if they were in a badly written young adult apocalypse novel and it all hinged on a _teenager_.

Silas rose first and offered his hand to Ira. Smiling at the man, Ira took it and stood up straight, picking up his bottle of coke as they left the room.

It was starting to get warm, so he had a minion bring it to a fridge.

Having a well-respected "husband" was surprisingly useful.

The dot signingfying his Host got closer to him again, and his good mood was abruptly ruined. Scowling, he felt the urge to go on a murder spree rise up within him. Come to think of it, why wouldn't he? This was a post-apocalyptic zombie world, he had more targets than he needed. There was no reason to hold back.

"Silas." he grinned when he turned to face Silas, who was walking beside him. "I want to kill things."

Silas smiled at him. "I'll get you a tank."

Ira's eyes widened and he whispered, "Awesome!"

He had already decided. He was going to drive it himself.

Grinning, he picked up his speed. Soon, he arrived outside and he hurried over to a tank, staring at it with sparkling eyes. Truly, it was magnificent. With it, he could drive right over zombies and crush them like ants.

It would be _so cool_.

Behind him, he vaguely heard Silas speaking with someone. He could hear their voices rising in volume and the furious whispering, but he paid it no mind. He was going to _drive_ the tank and go kill zombies! He was already excited and the bad mood from his Host approaching him was forgotten.

A minion came over and gave him his bag. It was good foresight, he had to admit, becuase he had no idea how long he would be gone.

Silas climbed into the tank after. Ira furrowed his brow and asked, "What are you doing?"

"I'm coming with you."

"Why?" Ira furrowed his brows in confusion as he settled down in the driver's seat. Silas sat down next to him, while a minion dropped off another bag and closed the door behind them. Then it was just the two of them alone in the tank.

Silas gave him a soft look and reached over to grab his hand. "Because I love you."

Ira blinked and deadpanned, "You've known me for a week."

Well, he knew that that wasn't actually true. Technically, Silas's soul had known him for much longer, but he had yet to see evidence that the man could remember anything from his other lifetimes. He hummed a little in thought and turned to face the wheel, pulling his hand out of Silas's grip in the process.

Silas stated, "That doesn't change anything."

Ira didn't respond.

He turned the key and the engine roared to life. He glanced at the video-feeds of the area around the tank and then looked out the front window. Happy, he pressed down the pedal and the tank started rolling.

Getting out of the base didn't take long, they weren't far from the gates and it wasn't terribly big. They did have to go around a few places that they couldn't drive through because the roads weren't wide enough, but there were no major problems. At the very least, Ira didn't kill anyone.

Out of the gates, and into the wild.

Despite the fact that it had only been about two weeks since the zombies made their debut, the area around the base was completely wrecked.

Overturned cars, burned corpses littering the ground, the occasional still moving detached hand...

The neighorhood had really taken a downturn.

"What do you think?" Silas asked.

Ira smiled. "I love it."

For some reason, this made Silas drop a kiss at the top of his head. Ira gave him a confused look, but got no answer.

As they travelled farther, away in another direction from his still approaching Host and her group, Ira felt his stomach twist. For a second, he was worried that it was hunger again and that he had forgotten to eat once more, but a quick glance through his logs showed that he had eaten merely two hours ago. Not hunger then.

It was when he caught sight of the first zombie in over a week that he realized what the feeling was. 

Excitement.

He promptly drove over it. Then he backed up and drove over it again. And again, because it was just that fun. 

They kept going and as they got further from the base, more and more zombies started appearing out of the woodwork. Literally, they walked out of the woods and walked kind of twitchily over toward Ira and his tank. Ira then did his civic duty of running over them.

Eventually, they had been on the road for more than two hours and Ira had crushed over a dozen zombies.

He was feeling very pleased with himself.

"Here." Silas said and held out a bottle of water in front of Ira's face.

Ira scrunched up his eyebrows and asked, "What's that for?"

"So you don't get dehydrated. It's important to drink water, especially in weather like this." hearing Silas sounding so reasonable, Ira consented that he had a point and grabbed the water, guzzling it down like he was dying.

Technically, he was. Humans were dying as soon as they formed in their mother's womb, that pesky problem of their cells not doing their jobs properly.

He held out the bottle back to Silas and stated, "Thanks."

Silas took back the bottle and Ira got a kiss on his cheek for the trouble. Scrunching his nose, he evaded the man when he tried to get a hug out of him too and redirected his attention to his map, in hopes that there was a zombie around.

There was not.

Scowling, Ira looked further. The closest zombie was a whole kilometer away. 

This was a freaking _conspiracy_.

He let got of the wheel, felt the tank stumble to a stop and leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed. Silas did something next to him, but Ira was stubbornly ignoring him.

"Here." Silas held out a bag in front of his face, and out of curiosity, Ira looked at it. 

He frowned, "What?"

He felt Silas lean closer to him. "It's a chocolate cupcake."

Ira's head swiveled around so fast he almost worried it was going to topple off. He stared with wide eyes at Silas and then used his superior sense of smell to ensure that he was telling to truth. It smelled like chocolate. 

"Where did you get it?"

Silas laughed and leaned over to hug him. This time, Ira let him. Then Silas whispered into his ear, "I baked it myself. I have more at home, when you're ready to go back."

That was just straight up _blackmail_.

Ira had absolutely no problems with that.

He opened the bag as soon as Silas let him go and was welcomed by the scent of chocolate. It looked perfect, and as soon as he bit into it, he could confirm it. Within minutes, he had eaten the entire thing, and was left licking his fingers for any trace of it.

Distracted, he asked, "You promise there are more at home?"

"Mhm."

Ira gripped the steering wheel, pressed down on the pedal and made a sharp U-turn. 

The tank almost toppled over. Ira just laughed.

By now, his Host and the male protagonist, as well as Amanda, had all arrived at his base. Oddly, he was not nearly as upset about this as he had been when he set out in earlier morning.

He attributed this to the promise of more chocolate cupcakes.

 


	40. 4.9

The first thing Ira was met with when they returned to the base and exited the tank was Amanda's glare. Furrowing his eyebrows together in confusion, he followed her gaze to something behind him and caught sight of his Host.

His shoulders dropped a little in disappointment.

He sighed and leaned back against Silas who was standing behind him. Ira couldn't resist mumbling, "I had really hoped she'd be dead by now."

"Is that so?" Silas asked and hummed above him. 

Ira stretched his head back to catch sight of his eyes and saw them pleasantly darkened. Silas smiled down at him. "I'll go get a gun."

For a second, Ira was unsure what Silas was talking about, having lost interested in the conversation for some reason. Then he realized what he meant and burst out laughing.

"You–? Y-you want to kill her?"

He couldn't stop himself from laughing. The idea of Silas killing was hilarious, mostly because he hadn't ever seen it before. He knew that Silas had killed before, many times in fact, but somehow he still couldn't imagine it. After all, whenever Ira went on a killing spree, Silas would never join in. He'd just lurk around in the background.

He waved away Silas' concern. "It's fine, it's fine! It's not like she's going to last long in a world like this anyway."

A sense of vicious satisfaction curled in his belly.

Silas patted him on his shoulder and said, "If you say so."

Ira spun around to stare at him. That sounded suspiciously sarcastic. Silas wasn't really planning on killing his Host right? If so than that would be blamed on _Ira_ for egging him on and his salary would be cut.

"You can't kill her." Ira order abruptly.

"Don't worry." Silas smiled a smile so fake that it made Ira shiver in disgust. "I have no plans on allowing her to die."

Ira's confusion was interrupted by the arrival of Amanda. He saw her approaching on his map and turned around just in time.

"Ira." Amanda smiled brightly at him. "Silas." she frowned and glared at the other man.

"Amanda." Silas sounded annoyed. "How was your trip? Any losses?"

Amanda glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "We lost out captain to a horde of zombies and a few of the grunts died as well. Nobody got turned, luckily."

"Luckily." Silas said flatly.

Ira stared between them with wide eyes, having no idea what was going on.

Were they... fighting?

...That was _hilarious_.

"Pfft!" he didn't manage to turn away in time to hide his laughter so he just laughed out loud instead.

"Ira!" Silas protested.

Ira just kept laughing. When he finally calmed down he found that both of them were staring at him with indulging looks on their faces. The familiarity of it irked him and so he decided that it was time for his payment. "Silas, my cupcakes."

"Right, right." Silas nodded at him and smiled brightly. "They're at my place."

Just as they were leaving to finally get to the main point of this whole thing, a disturbance on the map made Ira sigh in disappointment once more. He rolled his eyes and turned around just as his Host reached them. With a blatantly faked smile, he asked her, "How can I be of assistance?"

There was no point in trying to pretend that he wasn't who he was. Just like a System could always recognize their Host, a Host could always recognize their System.

It was a safety measure to ensure they didn't go about babbling about their world-traveling to someone native.

Or another Host.

Granted, two Hosts ending up in the same world at once, much less in the same location, was nearly unheard of it. That wasn't to say that it hadn't happened before, but it hadn't gone well. Now, most Systems actively avoided it, by use of a list that announced which missions and worlds were currently occupied. Another Host only entered the world if it literally had _nothing_ to do with the original mission and only if it couldn't be avoided or put off until the first mission succeeded.

His Host was staring at him with infuriated eyes and demanded, "Where have you _been_?!"

At least it was a valid question.

"I apologize. The body I ended up in proved to be quite a distance from you and travel isn't easy in this world." Ira insincerely explained.

She frowned at him. "Well just... don't do it again."

Do what again? Ira honestly had no idea what she was talking about. The whole being on the other side of the country thing? What? Couldn't she explain it in more detail?

"I promise." 

She nodded. "Good. Then will you help me now?"

"Of course." Ira smiled. At least she had asked. That was more than most Hosts ever bothered to do. Of course, he could tell by her tone that it was a rhetorical question, by the point was that she had manners. Most nobody did these days. Too many transmigration novels making them think they were _entitled_ to everything.

Ira turned briefly back toward Silas and stated. "You go back first. I'll come home as soon as I can."

Ira didn't see his response. He had already turned back to his Host and was following her as she lead him somewhere he hadn't been before. To be fair, he had spent most of his time in Silas' lab, learning the most fascinating things.

In comparison, the rest of the base was annoyingly dull.

After about ten minutes of walking they finally stopped in front of a door. His Host knocked on it and the male protagonist opened it. Ira followed her into the building and into a room where it seemed like her whole group was gathered. No, that was wrong. It was the whole group that she had managed to drag kicking and screaming to _her side_.

And the male protagonist, of course.

What had she said to convince them all to come here and seemingly obey her orders?

Ira settled down on a stiff chair and wriggled a little in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. But the metal chair wasn't cooperating.

"Now, System." his Host put her hands on her hips and glowered down at him. "Tell us everything you know about the zombie vaccine."

...Did she just say what he thought she said?

A pin could have been heard dropping in the resulting silence. It seemed as if everybody here were staring at him with ruthless gazes and for a couple of seconds, Ira didn't know what was going on. Then his mind caught up with her words and he had to forcefully stop himself from cackling at her.

"I'm sorry, _what?"_ he blurted out.

She crossed her arms and tried staring him down. Ira had to swallow down his urge to laugh in her face.

"You are going to tell us everything you know about the vaccine." she repeated in what she probably thought was a strong and demanding voice but really, it was just whining. He saw the male protagonist wincing behind her and for once, he was feeling compassion for a _protagonist_. What was the world coming to? 

So _this_ was what she had used to get everybody on her side, then?

He sighed. "You know I can't do that."

_"You have to."_

Ira rolled his eyes and drawled out, "As your System, it is my duty to inform you that by continuing on this path, you will–"

"Shut up! Just tell me!" she yelled in desperation.

 _Mission Failure_ blazed across his vision and Ira groaned with disgust. He threw his head back and it hit the metal chair with a heavy thud. He didn't even wince at the pain.

_His cupcakes._

No, you know what, she was not ruining this for him. He was getting those cupcakes if it was the last thing he did in this world.

"You've failed. Your soul will be collected automatically." he informed her and stood up from the chair. It wasn't like he was tied down or something, so there was really nothing stopping him from getting those damn cupcakes. It was bad enough that his Host had to insist on getting him involved and having him solve the whole mission, thus automatically failing the whole mission, but now she was going to be standing in the way of his cupcakes? No, no way. He wouldn't allow it.

"Move." he ordered the male protagonist. Proving that he had more braincells than most, the protagonist did as Ira ordered.

Ira hurried down the hallway and out the building. His map informed him the precise moment when his Host's soul was collected and dragged away, but he didn't pay it any attention. His time in a failed world wasn't indefinite, though ti was better than a successful one.

And he wanted those cupcakes damn it!

His Host had really gone around the bend. Ira frowned as he ran down the streets toward Silas' apartment and thought of her. She hadn't seemed like the sort of person who would suddenly demand this, but he supposed that zombies really weren't for everyone.

Some people just couldn't handle it, he guessed.

It was just bad luck that his Host was one of them.

He threw open the door to Silas' place and didn't even bother closing it behind him. Veering straight for the kitchen, Ira ignored Silas' worried questions and grabbed the plate of chocolate cupcakes already prepared on the kitchen counter. He opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk and settled down by the kitchen table.

"Ira!" Silas snagged a hold of one of his hands and held it tightly. "What is going on?"

Ira frowned and shook his hand loose. "I'm leaving this world, but _I am going to eat my cupcakes first, damn it."_

"Leaving? What do you mean?" Silas stared at him with desperate eyes and reached out to him again.

Okay fine, so the time limit wasn't as dire as Ira had made it seem. He could, technically, stay in a failed world as long as a whole mortal year. It would be counted automatically as part of his vacation, but Ira had things going on at home.

He had manga and anime waiting for him and he wasn't passing them up just a for a few more moments in this world, okay?

Even if he really did enjoy killing zombies.

Ira had eaten two whole cupcakes by the time that he finally deigned to respond. "My soul will be leaving this world soon and then this body will die."

"Why? I gave you the vaccine for the zombie virus." Silas appeared to be searching Ira's face for some sort of explanation. Ira just shrugged in response and ate another cupcake.

Silas was a surprisingly talented baker.

He heard the chair screeching across form him and then Silas walked around the table to hug Ira from behind. Ira tilted his head to side when he felt Silas' head land on his shoulder. Pain sparked across it and made him hiss slightly when he felt Silas biting his neck so hard that he broke the skin and made Ira bleed.

Ira ate another cupcake and finally found that he was so full that couldn't eat another one. He sighed and tilted his head further to the side as he felt Silas licking up the blood.

"What are you, a zombie?" Ira muttered.

"I had to test the vaccine on _somebody_." Silas answered and pressed a kiss to Ira's neck.

Ira rolled his eyes and drank some milk. "I'm sure the government was more than happy to provide you with test subjects."

"Only after the virus had broken out." Silas mumbled into Ira's skin. Ira felt a shudder run through him. 

So that was it then?

Ira smiled. "You know, my experiment isn't over yet."

The next world would reveal if it was a coincidence or not. The presence of Silas' soul, that was. With nothing but a thought, the last through threads tying his soul to this body snapped, and he was gone.

He thought he would try a BL world next time. It sounded  _interesting_.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, this was not how this arc was supposed to end! 😡 But I got completely stuck so here you have this rushed ending so I can move on to the next arc. Finally. (I've been waiting for this.😎) I hope to see you there! Thanks for sticking by me! ❤❤
> 
> Don't forget to vote, comment and follow if you like this!
> 
> ~Dez


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